


dripping with alchemy

by callmearcturus



Series: dripping with alchemy [1]
Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmearcturus/pseuds/callmearcturus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't that Rhys had anything against being an omega. He didn't have any self-loathing or resentment for how he presented. It was just <i>easier</i> with the suppressants, especially when you had his ambitions.</p><p>Unfortunately, after sort of accidentally-on-purpose using them for <i>years</i>, Rhys finds himself very ill and having to quit his suppressants for his health's sake. Suddenly, he has to figure out how this whole omega thing works.</p><p>There's plenty to learn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 500% of the blame goes to lelelego and ledgem, for incepting me into this fanfic trope. Hopefully this is a fun twist of the formula.

The most important thing to remember was that Rhys had never expected he would need to know how to handle the whole omega thing. As far as he’d been concerned, it was never going to be an issue. Until suddenly, it really, really was.

The entire problem started when Rhys was twenty-two. He’d only presented as omega a year before university, which was late for presenting, but not uncommonly so. By the time it’d snuck up on him, his mind was on other things. He was busy with the _plan_.

The _plan_ had been straightforward. He was going to pack up and move off Eden-5 to one of the orbital universities. He would get his degree, double-majoring in business and ECHO networking, the most versatile and useful fields he could think of. He’d work his ass off to make himself into a highly desirable candidate for Atlas or Hyperion. Or Maliwan, he supposed, but Rhys hoped it wouldn’t come to that. They were his safety corporation, basically.

Anyway. In ten years, he’d be upper management and his life would be perfect.

That was the idea, of course. Things never went so smoothly, though.

Things went off the rails when he was halfway through his degree and cramming for his Advanced Data Recovery exam. His heat fell onto him like a ton of bricks the night before the exam.

It’d been unexpected, to say the least. Rhys had only been an omega for a year or two, and already his heat cycle was a mercurial bastard. It was highly irregular, sometimes staying silent for months at a time, then hitting him for two weird, uncomfortable days before releasing him again. Another time, he was struck by two separate week-long heats in the span of three months.

Point being, Rhys had no way to predict that his heat would show up in time to ruin his chance when he had a test that would make or break his grade.

So, Rhys missed his exam, but was allowed to get another chance at it. Omegas got some leniency with the whole heat cycle thing so long as it didn’t become a habit.

The fact that Rhys passed his class was beside the point. The heat thing was _irritating_ and getting in the way of his carefully constructed life plans.

But that was what suppressants were for.

One doctor’s visit and an auto-renewing prescription later, and Rhys never had to worry about his heat cycle ever again. 

Well. That was the theory, anyway.

 

* * *

 

This was how Rhys’ morning routine went from twenty-two to twenty-nine:

Rhys’ arm sat in its recharge cradle across the room from his bed. The alarm programmed into the palm computer went off, buzzing loudly until Rhys was forced to get up and turn it off. Forcing himself to get out of bed helped him actually wake the hell up, otherwise he was happy to sleep in for another hour. Which, when you had classes, then an internship, then a data mining job, then a personal assistant position, _then_ a personal assistant _to the President of Hyperion_ position… sleeping in wasn’t allowed.

Rhys stood blurry-eyed and plugged in his arm from muscle memory, booting up the locomotion and letting it initialize and get ready for a day of work.

He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and swallowed two vitamin tablets and one oval yellow pill, washing it all down with water from the faucet.

On a good morning, Rhys had breakfast. Since he started working for Handsome Jack, though, he got dressed and hurried out the door, checking his messages on his ECHOeye to see what Jack wanted for breakfast, picking it up on the way. From there, he’d tail Jack for most of the day, keeping his life organized and as on-schedule as possible.

It was a familiar routine, and Rhys liked it that way. His life had enough excitement lately that it was nice to have _something_ stable and easy.

Unfortunately, it couldn’t remain stable and easy forever. Something had to give. The universe was cruel like that.

This morning, Rhys woke up feeling a little off. He went through his morning routine with a sour feeling in his gut, a frown creasing his brow as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He looked like he hadn’t slept. But he had. _But_ he felt like he hadn’t. Weird.

On his way out the door, he fired off a fast message to Jack, asking him what he’d like. Jack’s reply was even faster than usual; he must’ve been waiting on Rhys to ask.

The largest size coffee possible and a hot bacon sandwich. Normally, that would sound really great to Rhys. Today just thinking about it made him feel queasy.

But, what Jack wanted, Jack got, especially first thing in the morning. Rhys rode up the elevator, holding the hot cup in his metal hand and the sandwich in his other. The sandwich was wrapped in wax paper, fresh from the food cart in the Hub of Heroism that Jack liked the most.

Feeling oddly lightheaded, Rhys took a deep breath on his way up to Jack’s office. He could smell the hot grease and the hazelnut cream, and his stomach twisted, so hard and sudden that he swayed back against the wall.

Man. He was in bad shape. At least he could sit down at his desk soon. If worse came to pass, he could stay in the office today and direct Jack along his schedule remotely.

That would have worked out fine, if he hadn’t passed out and nearly brained himself on Jack’s desk.

Rhys didn’t know exactly how that happened, except that Jack had looked up with a pleased grin as Rhys handed over his breakfast. When he’d unwrapped the sandwich and Rhys caught a whiff, the nausea rolled over him with all the force of an ocean wave, and then he was falling.

Next he knew, he was opening his eyes and looking up at Jack’s narrow-eyed stare.

“Hello? You in there, Rhysie?” A hand tapped Rhys’ cheek briskly. “Eyes on me, pumpkin, come on.”

“Nngh.” Rhys swatted Jack’s hand away and made to sit up. Halfway up, he stopped, head spinning.

“Been a while since someone fainted from my very presence,” Jack said with a wry smirk. “And here I thought you’d grown past your little fanboy crush.”

“I _really_ might throw up on you if you don’t stop,” Rhys moaned. Shutting his eyes and leaning his head back against Jack’s desk, he said, “I might need a doctor.”

“If I’m honest, you do look a bit on death’s door, yeah. Come on, up,” Jack said, his hand planting firm against Rhys’ spine, his other grasping Rhys’ elbow, bodily hauling Rhys to his feet.

Rhys braced himself on the desk. “Right, lemme, uh…” He blinked his eye on, checking his calendar. “You have an update from the shielding R&D team in an hour, so make sure--”

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” Jack threw himself back into his chair, attention already slipping off Rhys. “Get gone, cupcake.”

Rhys shut his eyes, tipping his head back. “No food names, oh my _god_.” Gingerly, he pushed away from the desk, trundling slowly back to the elevator. “I’ll be back.”

“Yeah’huh,” Jack said, distracted.

“One hour! R&D!”

Jack said nothing, but that was fine. Rhys was having trouble caring, one arm folded over his stomach protectively as he left the office. 

It’d be fine. If he was lucky, he’d only miss the beginning of the day and everything would be fine.

 

* * *

 

What Rhys hoped for was for one of the people in Medical to wave a scanner at him, maybe prick his finger, and send him back with a vitamin shot, something  _easy_ .

Rhys liked when things were easy.

Instead, he-- well, they _did_ start with a fast scan. And they _did_ take a pinprick of blood. One of the nurses asked him to run diagnostics on his ECHOeye’s visual feedback, which was fairly standard. Some input lag from the eye, even a small enough amount to be subtle, would have set him off and answered why he felt so terrible.

It wasn’t the eye, his self-tests came back clear. By the time he was done, his doctor had returned with a dour expression on her face.

“Could I have you change into this, please?” she asked, holding out carefully folded scrubs.

Rhys sighed, taking them, figuring he wouldn’t be getting back to work as quickly as he’d like after all.

There was something distinctly unpleasant about sitting on an examination table. Scrubs were just not a warm enough barrier between the skin and the hard sterile surface. And it was petty, but he hated the weird color and shapelessness of the clothes. It was like wearing potential blackmail; Rhys would not be caught dead in anything so untailored and poorly coordinated at his own free will.

The doctor let herself into his examination room and shut the door silently behind her. “Mr. Sommerset.”

“You could call me Rhys.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Should I, ha, should I start to worry? I was sort of hoping for a quick fix, doctor…”

“I have no doubt, but I need to clear up some things about your chart. It’s a little confusing.” She settled into the chair next to him, powering up the ECHO in her hands. “I think we have some discrepancies here.”

“Okay,” Rhys said slowly, leaning back again. His hands folded on his stomach, his thumb rubbing circles against his navel. He still felt _off_ , though sitting still for a while certainly helped.

“Could you confirm your age and planet of origin?”

“Twenty-nine, and Eden-5. I have full shots for being from the Edens, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She shook her head. “No, I can see that, the information is here. I’m just verifying some things. Any known allergies, particularly to medication?”

“No, ma’am.”

“How long ago was your cybernetic surgery?”

Rhys blew out a breath, thinking. “I had the shoulder mount installed when I was… 17, I think. It’s been upgraded twice, and I had the ECHOeye interface put in three years ago.”

“Any other surgeries before or since?”

“Nope.” He watched as she tapped at the ECHO diligently. “I’m a little confused, is there… any sign of tampering with my record? Data loss?”

She hummed to herself for a moment, frowning at the screen. “Well, some. So far it seems limited to your endotype being listed as omega.”

“Oh, um.” Rhys shrugged. “I am, though. An omega.”

The doctor lifted her head slowly, her eyes narrow on him over her glasses. “An omega.”

“Yeah. The chart’s got it right.”

She didn’t look thrilled to hear this, setting the ECHO down on her lap and staring hard at Rhys, lips pressed together. “Mr. Sommerset, I’m an alpha myself and I… am getting a remarkably strong read off you, as a _beta_.”

“That’s just my suppressants, though,” Rhys explained.

“Suppressants,” she repeated slowly. “There was nothing in your file about suppressants.”

“Well, the prescription pre-dates my emigration to Helios, so maybe that’s why?”

“Your chart says you’ve lived here for _years_ , sir. Where did you-- _when_ did you get this prescription?”

“Uh.” Rhys suddenly felt nervous, sitting there in his scrubs and socks. “I… I can pull it up on my ECHO if you give me a moment, I have it somewhere.”

“Please do. In the meantime.” She stood and went to the cabinet, pulling out a packaged needle. “I will need another blood sample. We need to-- your lab work was done with the assumption you were a beta, this changes things.”

“Yeah, sure.” Rhys offered his hand, let the doctor prick his finger. As soon as she had his sample, she excused herself and left.

There was a feeling of dread in Rhys’ gut as he waited for her to return. It was never a good thing when someone in Medical wanted your blood, and Rhys tried to keep calm, rubbing the sore tips of his fingers together.

When his doctor returned, she had a new ECHO in her hand. “You have that information for me?” she asked immediately.

“Yeah, ‘course. Here.” He opened his palm, projecting his prescription into the air before between them.

Her eyes flicked over the text, her brow furrowing further and further as she did. “You’ve been on suppressants for _seven years_? Mr. Sommerset, when was the last time you took a break from this regimen?”

“Uh,” Rhys said, staring back at her through his transparent screen.

“Well,” she said, clipped. “I think I can tell you why you’ve begun feeling so unwell. The fact it took this long to happen is a miracle.” The doctor tapped on the new ECHO, shaking her head. “Your body chemistry is severely off-track, likely due to having your natural hormone cycle cut off for such an extended period.”

“Oh,” Rhys said, lowering his hand and powering it down. “That’s… bad?”

“It’s fixable. However, you will need to cut off your suppressant useage immediately.”

“For how long?”

She tapped a nail against the ECHO. “Looking at your bloodwork, your age, and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent on this regimen… six months at the absolute least.”

“A-are you serious?”

“Please understand, Mr. Sommerset. A renewing prescription like yours taken without re-evaluation for years, it was deeply dangerous. We’re lucky you felt the need to come in for this. _You_ are remarkably lucky none of your organs have been damaged in this time period.” She shook her head, face drawn and severe. “I’m revoking your prescription and will be sending a medical bot to your quarters to pick up your remaining suppressants. And I’m starting you on new medication.”

Rhys had no idea-- this was not part of his routine, that was for damn sure. He couldn’t help pulling his arms around himself, hugging himself tightly as he watched the doctor type. “So, I… Doc, I presented late and I’ve not been an-- an omega. I don’t know how that…”

She glanced up at him, expression softening. “I won’t condescend to you and say I know how you feel, Mr. Sommerset. But I would not do this if it were not vital to your health. Your body’s hormone levels are very, very skewed. We’re going you have you on medication to promote your natural hormone production as well as supplements to do the heavy lifting until your body can catch up and remedy the damage done.”

“Okay,” Rhys murmured. “Okay.”

She nodded, standing. Working efficiently, she plugged her ECHO into the computer against the wall, then took out another ECHO, handing it to Rhys. “This is a copy of your lab results, your new prescriptions, and some reading material. I’m including a short-term anti-nausea medication for you, to get you through this transition period.” As he took it, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll refer you to an endotype specialist, in case you have questions. This was a potentially dangerous situation, Rhys, but I see no reason you should not bounce back from it, healthier than ever.”

He nodded. “Six months. You said six months.”

She smiled, briefly, a flash of teeth there and gone. “Six on the inside, eight or nine on the outside, barring any complications.” She lowered her hand. “Take a few days off. When you feel able, return to _light_ work before easing yourself back into things. And be certain to take your new medication. Who knows?” Her shoulders lifted. “Being an omega again might suit you." 

“Yeah,” Rhys sighed. “Maybe.”

 

* * *

 

As he made his way home, he sent off two messages.

To Jack, he sent: _Not dying, but pretty sick. I’m on forced sick leave, but will be back soon. I’ll update you later._

To Vaughn, he sent: _omg bro can u come over asap, need u man!!!_

The doctor had not been kidding about the suppressants. Rhys hadn’t been home more than ten minutes before his doorbell rang. A medical bot, which appeared to be one of the loader bots refitted with smaller arms and a friendlier pale pink chassis, waited patiently as Rhys fetched his old medication.

The bot dumped the pill bottle into its chassis. “Remaining medication within acceptable parameters.” It held out its hand, a set of three new bottles resting upright on its palm. “Please take your new medicine. It is advised by your doctor to take them with food.”

“Right.” He took them from the bot, looking down at the new, unfamiliar labels. “When do I start taking them?”

“Stand by.” The bot’s eye lit up, an apparent connection being formed. “Today.”

Great. “Thanks,” Rhys muttered.

“You are welcome. Have a nice evening.” It turned, and left, walking stiffly down the hallway.

Rhys watched it go for a moment before shutting the door, wandering to his sofa and sagging down tiredly.

He read the label on each medication twice before scanning them all with his ECHO eye. Omega hormones. Because he was an omega. Right.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to be an omega. He didn’t have any self-loathing or resentment towards how he presented. It’d always just been about what was easy. Being an omega wasn’t bad, it was just inconvenient sometimes.

Though it wasn’t like he’d ever really given it a chance.

“Well,” he said slowly, uncapping each bottle and tapping out one of each pill. They sat heavy in his palm. “Might as well get started.” Closing his eyes he swallowed them all with a sip of water, slumping back against the sofa and waiting, as if he would feel it immediately.

He sat there a long time, just waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

“You know, it’s weird,” Vaughn said later, when he and Rhys had settled in for dinner, “but I kind of _forgot_ you weren’t a beta.”

Dinner tonight was soup that Vaughn had been nice enough to pick up on his way over. Rhys still didn’t feel up for anything more than that. Even the brothy soup was a little much for his stomach, and he spent more time chewing on the crusty bread that had come with it.

“Yeah. Well, I never _forgot_ , but..” Rhys sighed. “I just never expected to have to handle it. I was an omega for like two years before I basically _stopped_.” He frowned down at his bowl, half-finished.

“Yeah… I mean, do you think it’s that different?” He slurped down more soup, making Rhys wrinkle his nose in distaste. “Oh, stop with the face. And I mean, this is not a problem I’ll ever have, so.”

Vaughn was a beta, a real one, unlike Rhys. No weirdly heightened sense of smell, no heats, no worry about getting knocked up. It was a pretty sweet deal. There was also the lowered libido, allegedly, which lead to plenty of jokes. Rhys had always heard that behind every successful alpha was a beta who actually knew how to get shit done.

He’d sort of thought of himself and Vaughn both as those kinds of betas. He didn’t know if that was bad on his part.

“Maybe it won’t be a big deal,” Rhys said with a ghost of hope in his voice. “I mean, you and I barely notice if someone’s an alpha or omega unless they make it _really_ obvious.”

Vaughn snorted. “You must not hang out around enough omegas. They’re always complaining about endotype stuff.” He locked eyes with Rhys over the table. “Please don’t turn into that.”

“Bro, it’s like… six months, then I’m back on suppressants. It can’t be that terrible.”

“Then why do I have the strongest urge to knock on wood?”

Rhys laughed and leaned back in his chair. Pushing his food aside, he checked his messages quietly, eye blinking to life.

 _How did power generator meeting go?_ he fired at Jack.

In seconds, a response came, _Fine. No one there to take notes because my PA had the audacity to have a fallible mortal body._

Rhys smirked. _Sorry you have to actually pay attention. And I can only shove so much metal in my body before the ethics team has a fit._

_We have an ethics team?_

Chuckling, Rhys blinked his eye back off to find Vaughn giving him a curious look.

“You going to tell him?” Vaughn asked quietly.

That was a very good question. When Rhys had informed Jack he was sick and needed a few days off, Jack hadn’t pried or asked for details, just complained about Rhys’ dedication to his work. (Which was hilarious, since Rhys was still doing most of his job anyway, just remotely, via messages sent to Jack through the day.)

“I don’t think so. I mean, no one has to know, right?”

“Sure?” Vaughn shrugged. “You know, we’re both kind of uniquely unqualified for this.” 

“Tell me about it.”

 

* * *

 

Three days later, Rhys woke up feeling… pretty good. It was a nice change from the low-grade awfulness he’d been living with. It was the first time in a while that he’d woken up with his alarm and felt up for climbing out of bed.

He went through his morning routine, smiling at his reflection in the mirror before tossing back his new set of vitamins and pills. Yeah, he was ready. He updated his mental countdown as he got dressed: 177 days, if he was lucky.

On his way to Jack’s office, he thought about sending a message, the usual breakfast query. But there was a lightness in Rhys’ steps and he was eager to surprise Jack with his return, especially given how irate his boss had become in the last 24 hours with Rhys’ absence.

So instead he arrived unannounced and walked into Jack’s office, perfectly on time to start the day. “Miss me?” Rhys asked cheerfully.

Jack looked up at him, frowning. “Who are you again?”

“Ha ha.” He stopped at the desk, standing across from Jack and pulling up his palm computer. “Everything go okay?”

“You say that like you weren’t messaging me a hundred times a day. You were less of a nag when you were actually _here_.” He squinted up at Rhys, his eyes sweeping up and down him once before nodding to him. That was apparently as close as they were going to get to Jack showing real concern for Rhys; when there wasn’t anything obviously wrong with him, Jack’s attention shifted instead to Rhys’ hands. “What, no breakfast?”

Rhys arched an eyebrow at Jack through his palm screen. “You’ve eaten in the past four days, right?”

Jack didn’t look up from his computer. “What’s first on the docket, pumpkin?”

“Oh my god,” Rhys moaned, opening the schedule. “Well, _now_ it’s going to be a brunch with Corporate Subterfuge team. We’ll go to that cafe on deck 27 that you like.”

“That _you_ like,” Jack shot back, but was already powering down his desk, grabbing his coat and shrugging it on. “They got those Maliwan plans good and stolen yet, or what?”

Rhys flicked his screen off and fell into step with Jack as they went. “I assume they either will have them ready to go or will have plenty of excuses ready.”

“Gah, I hate having people beg me for their lives before I’ve had coffee.”

Rhys smiled indulgently. As they stood in the elevator, he could feel Jack’s arm just barely pressed to his, warm and solid. “The cafe will have coffee, I promise. Let’s try not to murder anyone before noon, okay?”

Jack snorted and dug his elbow into Rhys side a little. “What’s with the soft touch? Your brush with death got you wearing kid gloves?”

“Jack, I’ve never been into the whole....” Rhys waved a hand vaguely in the air. “Demotion by way of murder thing.”

“You liked it with Henderson,” Jack pointed out with a smirk.

“Henderson literally punched kittens in his free time. I would have airlocked him myself.”

“You good, then, babe?”

For a second, Rhys didn’t follow-- but Jack did that sometimes, just completely changed the track of the conversation on a whim. Even after all this time, Rhys had trouble keeping up. “I--” He coughed. “I’ve been better, but I’m good, yeah.” He brushed his fingers through his hair. “Thanks." 

“For what?” The elevator doors opened and Jack jerked his head. “Keep up, Rhys, let’s rock this walk.”

 

* * *

 

There were other parts of Rhys’ life that were routine.

He was Jack’s personal assistant. That was a job with plenty of arms, and while he’d grown accustomed to the ins and outs of his work, it was never boring.

He was the gatekeeper to Jack, who decided which people in Helios could have Jack’s personal attention and who would settle for submitting a faceless report to Rhys himself. People _never_ took lightly to being shown exactly how important they were in the grand scheme of Hyperion, but Rhys got a vindictive joy out of making it as clear to them as he could.

He also ghosted Jack all day, and was used to the way that raised the hackles of some people in the company, especially the new hires who didn’t _get_ how things worked yet.

Them, and the alpha project leads in R&D. Rhys had rarely felt like his life was in danger since he became Jack’s PA-- Jack was too big a target himself for people to pay attention to his well-dressed shadow. But the people who really looked angry at his presence were always the alphas who didn’t like Rhys taking notes on their projects.

It wasn’t everyone. But it was enough people to be noticeable, for Jack to have once loudly remarked to the head of hydroponics, “Want to put some ice on that hateboner, Tyson, the adults are trying to work here.”

The more mundane parts of Rhys’ job had their appeals. He’d gotten good at handling Jack, learning how to get the man to meetings on time, to keep track of the kind of information Jack needed when working, and to nudge Jack towards and away from bouts of mercy and vengeance as needed. Plenty of times, Rhys has distracted Jack out of a tirade, giving some poor soul the chance to live another day.

A few times, he’d just turned his head away and said nothing as Jack brought his wrath down on someone. It was important to be adaptable.

Rhys didn’t anticipate any of that changing as he dropped off his suppressants. The idea that it would matter somehow just did not occur to him.

The first thing anything pinged on his radar was while he and Jack did a walk-through of the eridium refinement facility. It was a check up they did regularly, as eridium was money for Hyperion. Rhys had grown used to the way the engineers would hold the doors open for Jack to pass through before childishly letting them fall shut on Rhys, slowing him down.

It was petty, and Rhys let his ECHOeye take quick snapshots of each person who did it to him. Rhys had _lists_. He was a very organized person.

This time, though, was… strange.

Rhys followed Jack’s coattails as usual, trailing behind today’s guide, a short alpha who wore the slag-scars on his face like a statement of confidence. At each security door, the guide used his ID to let them through, and stood holding the door open.

Even for Rhys. He, in fact, more than once, waited for Rhys to step all the way through, dark eyes flicking to Rhys’, to his neck tattoo. It wasn’t the casually murderous gaze he was inured to, even.

Huh. Rhys nodded back his thanks, and the guide smiled at him.

 _Weird_.

Three days later, there was one of those _very_ uncomfortable, mock-friendly luncheons between Hyperion and the remnants of DAHL. Jack never went in person, sending Rhys to handle the small talk and screaming matches.

Which… was fine. Rhys knew about the Invasion of Helios.  The idea of subjecting Jack to their DAHL visitors made Rhys feel needlessly cruel.

The luncheons were _meant_ to repair the damaged relationship between the two corporations. Mostly, it involved the DAHL reps making snide comments about Hyperion’s stock score that week and dodging any questions about reparations for the Helios invasion.

It was two hours of _pain_ , but there was food, and Rhys always had three of whatever alcoholic drink was on offer that day. It dulled the monotony and pain.

When two hours had passed, Rhys was first to stand, reaching back for his wallet. He was more than happy to just throw down some cash and get the hell out and back to work.

“Oh, Rhys, let me, please.”

There was a hand on his arm, boldly curled around his wrist. He followed it back, up to the woman in DAHL dress uniform and her warm smile.

“Let you…?”

She laughed, teeth flashing, and her hand squeezed his wrist briefly. “Your tab, please. It’s always a pleasure to see you at these.”

“I… oh. Okay. Thanks.” He stepped away, carefully, waiting for the punchline, but the DAHL woman-- she was an alpha, Rhys realized with a deep inhale. He’d only just started to get that, the way he could _tell_ now.

Her smile remained firmly in place. “See you next month.”

“Th--thanks, you too…” he muttered before making a break for the door, carefully _not_ running. 

 _Really weird_.

 

* * *

 

Back at his desk, Rhys swallowed a pill for his headaches. As his ability to pick up on pheromones and endotypes came in, so did the migraines. It was like having another sense just _happen_ when you were in your late twenties. It was interesting, but also uncomfortable.

“So,” he said into the space between his desk and Jack’s. “The DAHL attaché bought me lunch today.”

Jack had been typing, leaning too close to his monitor with an angry scowl on his face. At that, though, he stopped, head swiveling slowly to regard Rhys. “What?”

He smiled and got up, walking over to Jack’s area. He could sense when Jack needed a momentary distraction, it was clear in his face, even with the mask. “At the luncheon today. I went to pay, but this alpha lady just took care of it for me.”

“Huh.” Jack looked Rhys up and down. “You haven’t been poisoned, have you? Because they do that, DAHL, when their first hundred friggin’ attempts at brute force fail. They get cunning eventually.”

“Thanks for the concern,” Rhys said, smiling, “but I think I’m okay. It was just… weird.” He looked away, down at his metal palm, tracing the blue light with a soft finger. “Lots of weird things lately.”

“Maybe they think they’re going to hook you up with one of theirs, unite our kingdoms by marriage, weasel their way into Hyperion’s awesome success. Ha!”

“That… would be strange, yeah.”

“It’s a more likely explanation than, _oh hey_ maybe someone at DAHL _isn’t_ a complete backstabbing prick that should be forcibly ventilated with an SMG.” Jack growled, low and angry. “Or you could cut it off with the friggin’ cologne, princess, geez.”

Rhys’ breath caught. “Uh.” _Cologne_ , what-- oh. _Oh_. Oh god, suddenly his last week made… so much more sense.

“Yeah, I noticed, don’t let your heart get all a-flutter,” Jack grumbled, reaching for his coffee mug. He tried to take a sip, but glared down at it when it was empty. “It’s, eh... distractingly nice. Didn’t know the fancy stuff was your thing.”

Tongue suddenly caught in his mouth, Rhys wordlessly held out a hand. Jack passed his mug over, and Rhys retreated to the coffee machine. 

Glancing back over his shoulder at Jack, he watched his boss work and bit his lip.

It was fine. So a few people around Helios were treating Rhys with a bit more honey than vinegar. That was a nice change, really. He could handle that.

This omega business wasn’t turning out so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes very quick. i'm writing this to deal with be hellaciously sick right now. comments are extra appreciated, as I just got of the ER, feel pretty rotten, and being able to talk about this fic makes me smile a bit.
> 
> next chapter is already half written. yay for being viciously ill???


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'ed for the moment, will be remedied later

Rhys’ ECHO comm started ringing around 3am.

“Oh my god, Jack, _what_ ,” Rhys moaned to the ceiling, rolling over and pulling his pillow to lay over his ears. It wasn’t enough to drown out the irritating ringing, but Rhys was hoping Jack would look at the damn clock, realize it was the middle of the night, and _go to sleep_.

Instead, the ECHO comm went quiet for about five seconds before it crackled with static, its speaker powering on. “Did you seriously just make me hack your ECHO, Rhysie, _really?_ ”

Rhys turned onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. “Jack. Go to bed. It can wait until morning.”

“You say that like you know what I’m working on, which, point of interest, I don’t think you do.”

“You could be working on a way to successfully digistruct hot coffee and it could _still_ wait until morning!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack replied, clearly not listening. “Where’s the reports on slag utilization in the thing?”

Rhys let his arm fall to the side, staring up at his ceiling. He was… not awake enough for this. The last few nights had been oddly restless for him, with more tossing and turning than he was used to. He’d only gotten to sleep an hour or two ago, and he was already not looking forward to handling Jack on so little sleep.

Rhys sighed. “The thing?”

“The orbital weapon thing, come on, cupcake, wake up!”

“That’s…” Rhys scrubbed a hand down his face. “Jack, that’s top secret, so there’s no network copy. The ECHOs are in your office.”

There was a beat of silence.

Rhys sighed. “Right. Gimme ten minutes.”

“Thanks, kitten,” Jack cooed over the line before the ECHO shut itself back off.

Rhys didn’t bother getting properly dressed. He didn’t even attach his arm again, instead just shoving his feet into his softest, most worn loafers without socks. There was an old cardigan that he’d had most of his life, from back on Eden-5 with its chilly winters. He pulled it off its hook in his closet, shrugging into it before heading out.

He took a small bit of satisfaction in how his pajama pants were nicer than most people’s uniforms, and that the low neck of his cardigan showed off his tattoo nicely. There were few people roaming the halls of Hyperion at this hour, but Rhys was pleased he still turned heads. It was a nice feeling, being attractive when half-dressed and sleep-deprived.

The ECHOs were in a locked safe room off Jack’s office that opened for Rhys’ voice scan and an optical check (normal eye, not ECHOeye, he’d made that mistake before). Once he found the ECHOs Jack needed, he grabbed a few extras that might be relevant, just in case, and went back to the elevator.

The ride to Jack’s penthouse took some more time, most of it spent by dozing on the wall of another elevator. It was safe; Jack’s penthouse had a single elevator as access, and it was locked to less than five people. 

Rhys let himself in, knowing Jack was expecting him. The penthouse was as open and dark as ever, the decorating geometric and sleek. It managed to look expensive without being gaudy. Rhys was a fan.

Directly from the door, the penthouse opened into a wide landing. It wasn’t quite an open floor plan, with the kitchen, office, and bedroom each sectioned off by black walls, but there were no doors to be seen. Rhys assumed doors just got in Jack’s way.

There was a dining area (which Rhys had never _once_ seen used, Jack always ate in the kitchen, saved time), a balcony view of the stars, and a living room space, the last of which was the only area with the lights on. There were no lamps to be seen, just soft ambient lighting casting down on Jack as he sat on the sofa, paperwork, coffee cups, and a half-eaten sandwich on the table before him.

Rhys let out a jaw-cracking yawn and circled around, stepping down into Jack’s space. “My liege,” he said sardonically.

Jack looked up, slowly tearing his attention away from the blueprints he was looking at. His mask was off, and the line of his brow furrowing was even more obvious without it. “Hey, Rhysie.”

This close, Rhys inhaled, and could taste the air. It was still new, still weird. Jack’s penthouse was full of the man himself, that warm taste on his tongue, a light astringent scent of his aftershave, and something like gunpowder. Rhys swallowed a lungful of it, feeling it settle heavy over his senses, his shoulders slumping.

Rhys shifted the stack of ECHOs in his arm pointedly, pleased when Jack got to his feet quickly, taking them from Rhys. It was nice to have the use of his one arm back. He ran his hair through his hair, messy and soft without his usual hair gel locking it in place.

Opening his eyes, he found Jack still standing there, lips turned down slightly. “Hm?” Rhys hummed. “Need something else? An elephant tranquilizer, maybe?”

Jack just took a slow, deep breath. “Cute. No, go on. I’ve got shit to do, don’t need your distraction.” Rhys huffed a laugh, and Jack smirked. “No early hours. I’ll call you when I want you in at the office.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “I’ll cancel your morning meetings.” He refolded his cardigan around himself, tucking his arm into its warmth. “Night, Jack.”

Jack didn’t say anything as Rhys left, but at the elevator, Rhys could see for a second before the doors closed. Jack was still standing there, staring after him.

Rhys yawned again. Man, he was tired.

 

* * *

 

The other shoe dropped the next day, when Jack finally messaged Rhys to come in.

It was a shame. Rhys had been _very_ comfortable, tucked into his sofa with his cardigan still on, watching a vid with one eye as he rearranged Jack’s schedule with the other. In the past few days, Rhys had cranked down the environmental controls in his apartment, happy when the room was just a bit too cold and he could curl up under something warm.

It was probably an omega thing. Rhys didn’t question it, letting himself enjoy the feeling.

Still, when Jack called, Rhys came, and ten minutes after his message, Rhys was stepping into Jack’s office, ready to get started.

Jack, however, was standing in front of his desk, leaning back against it with his arms crossed. His gaze was so fixed and narrow on Rhys, it was disconcerting, and Rhys slowed to a stop a few feet away. “Uh. Hey. Did you get any sleep?”

Jack’s fingers tapped quick and irritably against his bicep for a moment as he continue to stare at Rhys. Then, he took two long strides, closing the space between them. Freezing in surprise, Rhys didn’t even breathe as Jack leaned in, his mouth nearly at Rhys’ neck, and inhaled deeply.

“Uh,” Rhys croaked out, eyes wide.

Jack rocked back on his heels, nodding to himself. “Y’know, for a few days I just thought you had a nice bit on the side. Made sense, since you’ve been less of a pain in the ass lately, getting laid by some omega who couldn’t stop scenting you…” He lifted one finger, shaking his head and pointing to Rhys. “But this isn’t that.”

Rhys blew out a breath, wincing. It was amazing, honestly, that he’d gone almost a month without Jack knowing. The alpha was focused on his work, but he wasn’t oblivious. “No. No bit on the side.”

“Explain this to me, then,” Jack said, and stepped back, started to circle around Rhys, eyes narrow and appraising.

“Right, uh, so…” Rhys reached up and anxiously smoothed down his hair. “You… probably figured I was a beta.”

“Seemed pretty obvious. ‘Til you showed up in the middle of the night, all…” Jack trailed off into a vague growl.

Rhys had no idea what that meant. “Yeah, well… So remember when I got sick a few weeks ago?” When Jack nodded curtly, he went on. “It was because I’d been on my suppressants too long and they made me sick. So, doctor has me on omega supplements until my body… fixes itself. I guess.” He opened his arms, gesturing at himself. “Ergo, omega. Surprise, haha.”

Jack stilled, turning to fix Rhys with the same appraising stare. “How long have you been doing the beta thing for? Do they hand out suppressants for _that_ long?”

Rhys smiled. “Uh, the thing is that I’d gotten a prescription back in college.” Jack’s eyes widened. “A-and it was one of those auto-renew ones, so, I just… kept… taking them?”

Jack’s lips parted, and after a moment of standing stock still, he pressed a hand to his face, peering at Rhys through his fingers. “How… how are you not _dead_?”

“Luck, according to the doctor. So, uh, is…” Rhys folded his arms, hands tucked into his sides. “I mean, is this a problem? I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d…”

“What? Oh, pfft.” Jack’s grin reappeared on his face at last, brilliant and cocky. “Kitten, I don’t care what your endotype is. It’s just a _little_ friggin’ weird to have your beta of two years suddenly turn into an omega.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, I’d say don’t let it happen again, but I’m _pretty_ sure that’s impossible anyway. Biology and shit.” He waved his hand. “Don’t sulk, I’m not mad.”

Rhys looked down at himself, at the way he was-- he unfolded his arms, squared his shoulders, and hoped he wasn’t flushing. He hadn’t _meant_ to do that, making himself smaller. “It’s fine then?”

“Yup, you bet.” Jack walked around his desk and threw himself into his chair. “I’m just glad to know why I kept smelling an omega around here, like someone was sneaking in off hours to bang on my desk or something.”

“You can… Right, of course you can. Sorry. This is all kind of new to me.” Rhys laughed quietly, trying to ignore the way Jack was looking at him, rawkish grin and eyebrow lifted in amusement.

When Rhys continued to hover, Jack’s grin widened. “You can ask, pumpkin. I won’t laugh. Well, maybe a little, but only because everything about this is hilarious.”

“Ask,” Rhys repeated dully.

Jack crooked his fingers, and Rhys circled the desk to his side, only startling a little when Jack took hold of his tie and pulled, urging Rhys to bend close.

He could feel how warm Jack was this close, smell him keenly as Jack leaned in and inhaled deeply at Rhys’ neck, his lips moving and just barely brushing skin.

He let go, nudging Rhys back until he was standing again. “Hm. Sweet. But not sugar or chemical sweet, something else. Very nice, Rhysie.”

Rhys felt himself go red in the face. “O-okay, I-- thanks, I’ll just…” He did not _run_ back to his desk, but it was a close thing.

He smelled sweet. What was he supposed to do with _that_ information?

 

* * *

 

By the end of the week, Rhys was firing off borderline desperate messages to Vaughn and Yvette, needing some time away. He needed to take a night off, to be around his friends and to stop thinking about the omega thing anymore.

 _The omega thing_. As though it wasn’t the _Rhys is an omega_ thing. He kept holding onto the distance of it, hoping that would protect him somehow. It was more than a little sad, he was willing to admit. So far, the transition hadn’t been terrible, barring the headaches and the weird dreams, restless nights.

Still. “People are being _nice_ to me,” Rhys said, voice pitched loud to carry over the music in the bar. “I think the last time someone was nice to me, it was my _mother_ sending me a birthday card. That was at least five years ago.”

“I’m nice to you,” Yvette said. “I bought the first round even though you make more money than both of us combined.”

“That’s what I mean!” Rhys jabbed a finger at her. “You have _never_ bought my drinks before today. Huh? Sooo?” He gestured back at himself, waggling his eyebrows.

Yvette froze, staring at him. “Oh.”

Vaughn looked between the two of them. “A-are you serious?”

Rhys grinned victoriously. “Yep! Ha ha, even Yvette’s doing it. This was weird ten seconds ago, now it’s _great_.” He leaned forward on his elbows, beaming at her. “Am I the dreamiest omega you ever did see, ‘Vette?”

He fluttered his eyelashes. Just a bit, for effect.

She snorted and took a deep gulp of her drink, shaking herself with a wince as she set her glass back down. “There is not enough biological imperative in the seven galaxies to prevent me from slapping you, Rhys.”

“So how does it work?” Vaughn asked. “I mean, I know what sex ed teaches us, but like… you can _tell_ or something?”

“I smell nice,” Rhys explained helpfully.  _Sweet._

“It’s complicated,” Yvette countered, louder. “You are enjoying this way too much.”

Rhys shrugged. “What’s not to like?”

Yvette’s lips parted, her teeth perfect and gleaming even in the dark. “Oh, give it time. Now, you’re just getting into it, but word’s already spreading around Helios.” She held up her hands, spread them apart slowly. “Rhys Sommerset. Right hand man to Handsome Jack. Hyperion’s most _eligible_ omega.”

That made Rhys choke on his drink, sputtering. It burned his throat, and Vaughn was kind enough to rub Rhys’ back. “Y-- you can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am.” She smirked at him. “Some people picking up your tab or holding doors for you, that’s fine. But when you’re the hottest ticket on the menu?”

Vaughn shook his head. “Aw, man. There’s a lot of omegas in accounting. Apparently not being bonded means you’re _constantly_ avoiding alphas. They get pushy, apparently.” He blew out a sigh. “Have I mentioned lately that I’m glad to be a beta? It bears repeating.”

“Hang on, what…” Rhys laughed quietly. “What, because I smell nice, people want me to-- to stop working and pop out some kids?”

Yvette winked and lifted her glass to tink against his. “The omega lifestyle. Gotta tie that knot.”

Rhys scowled. “Oh, _gross_.”

“Agreed,” Vaughn said, shuddering. “But the smell thing, is that… that’s real, huh?” He looked at Yvette. “Does he smell nice?’

“I… yeah.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I mean, it doesn’t really cancel out the fact it’s _Rhys_ and he’s terrible.”

“Rude,” Rhys sniped back.

“But, yeah, he’s certainly… nice to be around.”

He met her eyes and smiled, a little more genuinely. “You too, ‘Vette. Sorry I never noticed before all this.”

Because she did. It was a crowded bar, filled with a lot of mingling scents, but in their little round booth, Yvette was close enough for Rhys to tell. She had the same _warm_ smell Jack did, but it was different, woodsmoke without the ash. It made him want to settle in, made him feel so calm…

“Do I smell good? I mean, not feeling left out here or anything,” Vaughn said.

Rhys took a deep breath, considering it. “Hm. It’s… no, it’s not like with the others, but that’s a nice aftershave?”

“You know, I’d be upset but this whole thing seems like more trouble than it’s worth. Maybe no one buys me drinks, but they also don’t look at me like I should be barefoot and pregnant, so.”

“I will literally pay you to never say that again,” Rhys said miserably.

Vaughn’s eyes lit up. “How much?”

“Okay.” Yvette slapped her palm on the table. “We’re done talking. It’s a Friday night, the music is good, and none of us are dancing.” She slipped out of her seat, pivoting cleanly on her heel to offer her hand. “Come on, boys.”

“I’ll, uh. Get the next one,” Rhys said. He held up his drink. “I wanna finish this, take the edge off.”

Vaughn nodded, patting Rhys’ thigh before standing and taking Yvette’s hand. “You’ll have to settle for me.”

She grinned at him, twining their fingers. “Oh, it’s never settling. C’mon.”

Rhys watched them go with a small smirk on his face. He wasn’t sure how he stumbled into the two of them, into having people at Hyperion that he _trusted_ against all his best instincts. It was nice. It was _necessary_ to survive on Helios, if he was honest. As much as Rhys could put aside a lot of things in the name of his ambitions, he wasn’t an island.

He needed another drink. Clearly he was in that place between sobriety and drunkeness, the place where the emotions lived. This would not do.

He climbed up and weaved his way around the dance floor, making for the bar. It was difficult; Friday nights were… they were Friday nights. Crowded, full of people who needed to get away from the stranglehold of Hyperion for a few hours. Rhys had been there himself.

Now, though, there was something more to it. He’d never picked up on it before, how _warm_ everything felt. People bumped into him, bodies between him and the bar, and Rhys let it happen. It was nice, to move with other people, breathing with his mouth open. There was the calm, that feeling that always seemed to settle in when the right kind of alpha was nearby, but there was more too. Someone putting their hands on his hips, moving him, and Rhys followed along without even thinking.

It was dark, and Rhys breathed deep through parted lips. Whoever took hold of him, they leaned in, nose against his neck, and Rhys laughed at the boldness. He turned his head, tipping back, catching the dark eyes of a stranger. “Hey there,” he said, smiling.

For a while, he just moved along as the hands on hips directed, smooth and easy with the music. He let his eyes shut, breathing deep and steady. It’d been so long since he felt like this, electric and alight, but settled like a heavy anchor.

Had it ever been this good? If this was one of the perks to being omega, then the suppressants could stay gone, for all Rhys cared.

He was coaxed to turn eventually, and the alpha stared at him with such nice eyes. He bit his lip, watching Rhys for a moment, and Rhys put a hand on his shoulder, eyes falling shut again as the alpha leaned in.

Rhys had never been kissed like this. A dry brush of lips against his, and Rhys hummed, opening his mouth instantly. A hand cupped his neck, pressure that felt _so good_ he moaned a little. There was no need to be self-conscious about it; the music drowned out the sound, and Rhys could feel the alpha against him moan back, echoing right back into their mouths.

It had never felt so _amazing._ Dreamy, wet kisses that bled into each other, he could do this forever.

When it stopped, it was so sudden, Rhys wanted to _cry_. He was yanked away, body jerking back. He stumbled, and Yvette’s hands closed securely around his arms, holding him up.

“Bad idea,” she said sternly, and marched him away, her grip on him unwavering as he whined, tried to dig in his heels, to stay. “Snap out of it, Rhys.”

He did. It took a few seconds and the cold air that blasted his face outside the bar, but he came out of it like dragging his body out of a pool. It resisted him, tried to draw him back--

He shuddered, eyes falling shut. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Yvette said, rubbing his bicep. “I know.”

 

* * *

 

Going home alone sucked.

It wasn’t that Rhys wasn’t used to it. He’d fooled around with Vaughn and Yvette in the past, sometimes both at once, but besides them, he didn’t really have any _time._ His job took up so much time and attention, Rhys didn’t have much to spare for dating, or even cruising for one night stands.

He could have tonight, though.

Rhys peeled off his clothes, throwing them angrily onto the floor. They smelled like the bar, like the alpha that had been all over him, like a missed opportunity.

It had never been so easy before.

He shucked off his pants and his briefs before stopping, looking down at himself.

He was-- there… slick. Not a lot, but enough he could feel it, hot and wet along the curve of his ass, a thick bead of it rolling down the inside of his leg.

He’d not had slick in _years_. He’d… honestly forgotten it was something he had to deal with.

Slumping against his bathroom sink, Rhys looked at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed pink, his eyes half-lidded. His natural eye was dilated, the brown iris reduced to an amber ring around his pupil.

His lips were red. They parted on a gasp as Rhys carefully, tentatively pressed his legs together, feeling the damp slide.

Rhys shook himself hard, cursing as he detached his arm and threw himself into the hottest shower he could stand. It would be fine. He’d just jerk off and go to sleep, and it’d be all right.

After a perfunctory few minutes of scrubbing down and washing his hair, Rhys turned, let the water beat hard against his back. He head rolled back as he sighed, remembering the body heat behind him at the bar.

Yeah. He could use this.

He pet down his navel, fingers running lightly through the trail of his hair leading down to his hard cock. It’d be better to go slow, to savor it, but Rhys _wanted_ , was aching for something, and wrapped tight fingers around himself. The first stroke had him rising up onto his toes, groaning from deep in his chest. _God_ , it was already so much.

His hand moved sure and steady, a fast rhythm that had Rhys’ hips rocking and stuttering up. It was perfect and fast, like he wanted it, the water hot, and so much wetness, running down his legs.

Rhys slumped against the wall of the shower, pressing his head against the hard surface. God, he _wanted_ , it was right there, he could taste it.

His cock slid between the ring of his fingers, and he just _couldn’t_ come. It shivered through him, so close he wanted to sob, but it wasn’t…

Pressing his body against the wall, letting it take his weight, Rhys squeezed his cock in time with clenching his ass. That-- that helped, and he moaned, feeling so-- so close to it, but not there.

Letting out a winded noise, Rhys let go of his dick and reached back, tracing his slick rim. A jolt of pleasure fired up his spine, arching it, and Rhys stared unseeingly at the ceiling. “Oh-- oh _god_ , oh no, please,” he whimpered.

He touched it again, two fingers circling, gathering slick, and it was _just_ on the good side of too much, he screwed his eyes shut, panted, shaking. He wished he had his other arm, to jerk off, to brace himself, but there was nothing. All he could do was lean against the wall and let out a tense cry as he sank two fingers into himself.

Three thrusts of his fingers and Rhys came, eyes rolling up, mouth gaping, the pleasure just pouring out of him in a rush. His fingers jammed in hard, making him ride it out, and it was _so good_.

After, Rhys stumbled out of the shower, barely drying off before collapsing in his bed, exhausted and warm and shivering through aftershocks.

He slept better than he had in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... yeah i'm still hellaciously sick, so: more fic.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for vasquez being a fucking dick who doesn't understand boundaries

It took about two months for being Helios’ most eligible omega to lose its appeal, and it happened when Rhys was trying to get to R&D to meet up with Jack. His arms were full, a stack of ECHOs in one and a sealed briefcase with a few stacks of eridium clutched in his other hand. Altogether, it was heavy and unwieldy, and Rhys cursed tersely as he tried to free a hand to press the elevator button.

“Let me give you a hand there,” Hugo fucking Vasquez said, leaning around Rhys to press the call button for him. He was close enough that Rhys could feel his warmth, just start to detect the lush smell of him under his cologne.

Rhys nearly dropped the ECHOs in his haste to back away, lip curled in distaste. “Vasquez.”

“ _Rhys_ , wow, it’s been a long time.” Vasquez smiled, swarmy and cocky as ever. Did the guy ever turn off? Who looked cocky just _standing by an elevator_ , seriously?

“Has it?” Rhys asked tartly. “Seems like just yesterday you stole that promotion out from under me.” Rhys held grudges. He’d admit it was a problem if he felt bad about it at all.

Vasquez leaned his shoulder against the wall, and Rhys squinted at the elevator, wondering that the hell was taking it so long. “And now here we both are, two ambitious men reaping the benefits of their positions.” He smiled. “You look good, Rhys.”

A slap across the face would have been less startling. Rhys gaped at Vasquez for a moment, until the elevator finally opened. Without hesitation, Rhys darted in, standing at the door to block Vasquez’ way. From inside, he could access the controls with his ECHOeye and hurriedly commanded the elevator to get him to R&D _now_.

The doors closed in Vasquez’ face. He was smiling the whole time.

Alone, Rhys shuddered. “Ugh, _gross_.”

 

* * *

 

Another person might not have held Rhys’ grudge against Vasquez. If someone wanted to get completely technical, it was Vasquez screwing Rhys out of his promotion that got him the job as Jack’s PA. There was a line of causation there that was impossible to ignore.

That didn’t stop Rhys from focusing on what was important: when the time came for people to be considered for Saul Henderson’s old job, Vasquez had paid one of Rhys’ underlings to drug his coffee. Instead of making it to the meeting that would catapult him up the corporate ladder, Rhys had been stuck in his apartment, drooling into his sofa cushion for 18 hours straight.

So Vasquez’d got the job, and Rhys had spent the next week systematically ruining the life of the person who’d turned on him.

A month later, Rhys had run into Handsome Jack on a shuttle, and Jack had said, “Wait, you’re the guy who somehow sentenced some data mining bootlicker to cleaning fire skag cages down on Pandora? Jimmy was telling me about that the other day, ha, that’s _awesome_. You’re a _vicious_ thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, kid?”

And the rest was history.

If Vasquez hadn’t screwed Rhys, he wouldn’t have ended up working for Jack. But Rhys still hated that prick. The only reason Rhys hadn’t put his crosshairs on him was because Rhys had been too busy and Vasquez was annoyingly high up in the hierarchy now, making it difficult to take him out.

Having Vasquez _flirting_ with him was… weird. Officially the worst thing to happen to Rhys since he went off his suppressants.

Sadly, that wasn’t the end of it.

“Kitten, I need you to go to this thing for me, find out if its worth five seconds of my attention,” Jack told Rhys later that week.

Rhys finished the line he was typing before standing and walking over to Jack’s desk. “What is it?”

Jack hit a few keys on his computer, and the message he was looking at arrived with a blip on Rhys’ arm. “That annoying thing when someone wants to see me and they’re not enough of a small fish to ignore but not enough of a big fish to be interesting. So, you get to go and see what they want.”

“Oh, my favorite,” Rhys said dryly, skimming the message. Just some department heads who wanted to float a new initiative to Jack. Definitely not important enough for Jack to go in person. “You’re going to be at the demolitions test instead, right?”

Jack grinned and clapped his hands together. “Yup. Papa’s got a date with some fun new toys. So you get to take care of that.”

“Cool,” Rhys said, sighing. “Remember to eat something before you go to the test, you’ll be there hours.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack waved him off. “Get going.”

“See you tomorrow,” Rhys said, taking a deep breath to steel himself before leaving, gunpowder in his lungs.

 

* * *

 

Outside the door to the meeting, Rhys consulted the message again, actually reading it through this time. To his dismay, this _was_ the right room, and now that he was paying attention, he saw who sent it.

“Oh my _god_.” Rhys shut his eyes, pained and steeling himself for what waited for him on the other side of the door. God, Vasquez was a _prick_.

But this was a new era, and Rhys was higher up the Hyperion pyramid than Vasquez. So he squared his shoulders and walked into the office.

His boots clicked solidly against the metal floor as he walked across the open space between the door and Vasquez’s desk. “So when you said you needed to coordinate with the President, what you _meant_ was you wanted to mess with me?” Rhys asked loudly.

It was just the two of them in the office; whoever the other people alluded to in the message had been, they weren’t here. Instead, Vasquez fired his smug grin up at Rhys, leaning back in his chair with his fingers steepled together, the cliche asshole he was.

“Rhys, Rhys Rhys Rhys, so much hostility already. Please, sit down, lets talk.” He nodded to his desk. “Would you like a drink?”

Rhys turned to look. That… was a bottle of wine, chilling in a golden bucket of ice.

He was thrown, but didn’t let it enter his voice as he glared at Vasquez. “What is this?”

“A business proposition. Please.” He gestured to the chair again, and waited until Rhys begrudgingly sat down.

“Make your pitch, now,” Rhys ordered quietly.

Vasquez chuckled. “Wow, turning omega’s done nothing to sweeten your disposition, has it, Rhys? But fine, fair enough.” He leaned forward, clasping his fingers together. “I thought you might be interested in… a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Rhys lifted his eyebrows and said nothing, just twirling his wrist, encouraging Vasquez to get on with it.

“There’s a lot of eyes on you lately, Rhys, lots of… talk, idle chatter, water cooler gossip. Lots of people in the company know you’re hot on the market, and,” he whistled lowly, smirking. “What a prize you are.”

“Okay, _wow_ ,” Rhys said, standing. “We’re done. Thanks. That was quick. I can go have an early dinner--”

Vasquez stood too. “But you and I both know you’re not interested in that, don’t we Rhys?” He spoke faster, staring at Rhys across the desk. “Just like we both know you must be getting plenty of offers.”

“What’s your point?”

Slowly, Vasquez circled the desk. “Must be tough, having so many people treat you like a potential trophy mate. How many times has it happened already?”

More every day. Yvette had been right about that. An unbonded omega in a position like Rhys, he was quite the _catch_ , apparently. “What’s. Your. Point.”

Vasquez nodded, oddly agreeable in the face of Rhys’ ire. “I was wondering if you’d like them to stop.”

Of course he would. Rhys frowned. “How?”

“A helpful charade,” Vasquez said. “You let me seed some rumors that _we’re_ courting--” Rhys started laughing. Vasquez continued, like he’d expected as much, “I get to say I’m the one who’s gotten a piece of that…” He stopped, cleared his throat. “And _you_ lose the swarms of suitors and get to do your job again.”

“You want to date me?” Rhys asked incredulously.

At that, Vasquez looked Rhys up and down with a keen gleam in his eyes. “Well… going omega has done you plenty of… kindnesses, Rhys, but I’m not an idiot. I want to be seen as the person who got his claws in you, and you need someone who’s respected in this company to drive off the competition. Like I said,” he leaned back on the desk, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Mutually beneficial.”

“Literally _no one_ who knows our history would believe we’ve hooked up,” Rhys pointed out.

“Two months ago, no one would have pegged you as an omega. Now, I don’t know the story about that, and I don’t really care.” He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing about you in the grapevine.”

Fair point. “How is anyone going to even hear about this? This doesn’t benefit me unless it gets other alphas off my back.”

“Give me _some_ credit, Rhys, I’m in the propaganda department, I know how to disseminate some saucy rumors.” His grin widened. “Can’t help but notice you’re not saying no, just… discussing terms, shall we say?”

God, he was. What the hell was wrong with him? Rhys pursed his lips, looking down at his feet. The last thing he wanted to do was anything that would help Vasquez’ standing at Hyperion.

But the way people looked at him differently now, it was a pain in the ass, and needled at him more and more as time went on. And he had months to go without his suppressants.

“Let’s say that I don’t think this is the _stupidest_ idea I’ve ever heard and that I’m not going to laugh in your face and leave,” Rhys said, glancing back up at Vasquez. “How would… this work?”

Pushing off the desk, Vasquez stepped in, closer to Rhys’ space. It took all his willpower not to back away in kind. “Well, we could set up some public appearances, some dinners in some of the nicer restaurants. Something with candlelight.”

“Having witnesses isn’t going to stop me from poisoning your food,” Rhys purred, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Still mad about that. Okay.” Vasquez rolled his neck, an audible cracking noise accompanying the gesture. “Plan B goes like this.”

Points to Vasquez; he moved quickly, closing the space between them and pressing his mouth firmly against Rhys’.

It was unexpected, to say the least. Rhys froze, unsure what was even _happening_ as his long-hated rival brushed the most chaste kiss against his mouth, lips dry and soft. Rhys inhaled sharply through his nose, surprised, and Vasquez smelled like heat and salt, something close to ocean spray. It was strange, and Rhys took another breath, still marveling at how this was a part of his life now, how almost everyone he met smelled so different.

He held still too long, and Vasquez’ hand curled around his collar, fingers oddly careful. He moved like Rhys was a skittish animal, liable to bite him. Which wasn’t far off the mark.

Rhys let Vasquez part his lips, and found he tasted like mints, like fresh chewed spearmint and artificial sweetener. It drew a faint noise out of Rhys, the thought that Vasquez had thought to do that in anticipation of this. It was… nice? Associating Vasquez with anything positive was still weird.

The hand on his collar slid up, into Rhys’ hair, and clenched down. The feeling shook through Rhys, making his rock up onto his toes, trying to abate the pulling feeling. It twisted in his chest, warming, mixing with the heavy scent of Vasquez against him, turning into something else entirely in his gut.

The hand in his hair pulled, and Rhys choked down a moan, swaying, kissing back finally because _god_ , that felt good. He wanted to follow the pull in his hair, let his head fall back, neck stretched.

Vasquez’s other hand caught his hip, drawing him in and turning him. Rhys walked carefully back, around the desk until his ass met the edge and he turned his head away, gasping.

Vasquez tucked his nose against Rhys’ temple, rubbing there. “Plan B, then?”

“Shut up,” Rhys growled, taking hold of Vasquez tie and pulling, hoping vindictively it hurt before he crushed their mouths back together. Fine, it was happening, it had been inevitable since Yvette pulled him off that one alpha at the club. Rhys had gotten used to the press of his own fingers in the past weeks, but it never felt _satisfying_.

Now, he could get a bonus out of this ridiculous deal between them.

What really got him going, made him feel slick and way too hot in his clothes, was Vasquez fisting a hand in his hair and turning him, bending Rhys over the desk, grip unyielding as he put Rhys face down. A choked wanting noise knocked free from Rhys’ chest, out his mouth, and his face burned.

“Yeah,” Vasquez said, voice deeper than usual as he dragged a hand down Rhys’ spine. “I think this is going to work out nicely.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, propping himself up on his elbows. “It’s better if you don’t talk,” he said tartly. Anything that reminded Rhys that this was _Vasquez_ was a turn off. He worked one arm under him, pulling at his belt and slacks.

Vasquez caught on quickly, at least, helping draw them down Rhys’ thighs, his briefs with them. He went so far as the step back, bending Rhys’ legs to take them off.

Rhys shut his eyes, resting his forehead against the desk. God, he was so slick…

There was rustling behind him, and then Vasquez was laying across his back, his dick sliding against where he was wet and wanting. “Such a sweet thing,” he murmured against Rhys’ ear.

Rhys whined, flushing hot all over. The words curled around him, sugar and arsenic, and he bit down on his lip hard, trying not to let on how much it affected him, how it was fuel tossed onto the fire in his belly. “Just hurry the hell up,” Rhys said, voice a shiver.

He knew what he was doing, was the worst and best part. Vasquez’s dick worked slowly into Rhys, just catching on the rim before he rocked his hips, slipping in deeper and deeper with each small thrust. Rhys’ eyes fluttered shut, his mouth open on a long gasp as Vasquez got into him. The stretch was intense, making Rhys huff and whimper, unused to anything but his fingers. He clenched down without meaning to, and Vasquez groaned, thrust in harder.

God, that was what he’d been missing. Rhys braced himself, pushing back, thinking far-flung thoughts about later, about his inevitable heat, how he wanted someone there for it. Maybe not Vasquez, but Vasquez could be manipulated, Rhys knew he could make that work if he needed.

Because, _fuck_ , he needed it like this, losing his mind as he was filled up, dripping slick down his legs, wanting noises punched out of his mouth every time the dick in him nudged against his prostate.

When orgasm hit him, it was toe-curlingly good. He squeezed down hard on Vasquez’s dick, wanting to feel it, the fullness pouring into him as he breathed in the heat of the alpha around him.

Rhys slumped down, exhausted, moaning softly into his elbow. He shivered. “Mmmfuck.”

It’d been great for too long, and Vasquez _had_ to open his damn mouth. “That’s it, baby, you’re so good at this. Always--” he grunted as he pushed in somehow harder, deeper. “Always thought you would be. S’gonna be so good, Rhys.”

Rhys lifted his head drowsily, hands splaying out on the desk as Vasquez rocked into him further. “Uhm, wait…”

“Shh, almost… almost there.” He was grunting with exertion, his thrusts almost lifting Rhys off his feet, up onto the desk. “Going to fit into you do good.”

Rhys blinked, coming out of his daze. Oh for fuck’s-- who did that? Who tried for a knot the first time, seriously? Rhys pushed himself up and knocked his leg against Vasquez. “Hugo, don’t.”

“C’mon, it’s just, hang on.” Vasquez caught that leg, lifting it up, onto his desk, and Rhys swore as he was stretched open wider, as Vasquez’ hip started to stutter.

“Vasquez, _don’t_ , I said…” Rhys grit his teeth and pushed back against the way it felt so _good_ and maybe taking Vasquez’ knot would feel even better, it’d be the first time--

Rhys twisted around, swinging his elbow up. It was the metal one, and it caught Vasquez right next to his eye, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes right onto the floor, howling.

“Fuck, what the _hell_?” Vasquez snarled from the floor, both his hands pressed over his face.

Rhys stood on shaky legs, aware he was a goddamn mess, but straightening nonetheless, glaring down at him. He reached down, grabbed his pants and pulled them back on. “I said _no_ , asshole,” Rhys spat furiously. “You touch me again, and I’ll have you put into a moonshot and fired into deep space.”

Vasquez peered up at him through one eye, looking so _angry_ \--

But Rhys worked for Handsome goddamn Jack. He knew what someone worth fearing looked like, and Hugo Vasquez wasn’t it. Rhys flashed his teeth back at Vasquez. “Deal’s off, but that should go without saying. Thanks for the ride, though.” He saluted, loose and flippant, before stepping over Vasquez and walking past him.

As he passed the desk, he grabbed the bottle of wine from its bucket, hand fitting securely around the cool glass neck. There was heft to it, and Rhys grinned.

After this, he could use a drink. Vengeance was always better with wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm about 20% less sick today???? but still fuckin' ill. have more fic, whoo.


	5. Chapter 5

Rhys arrived early the next day, beat Jack into the office to take a little time to rearrange the schedule and set things up.

It was the season for department reviews, the time when an ill-fated representative of each branch of Helios would make their way to Jack’s office to make their case that their work had been exceptional and that they didn’t deserve to be reassigned to Pandora or, in rare cases of complete incompetence, released out of the airlock in Jack’s office.

Propaganda had been slated for two weeks from now. Rhys put his feet up at his desk as he sent some emails, rearranging things so they were up on the docket first thing today. Then, he email Vasquez’ boss on a private line and told her that Rhys would consider it a thoughtful personal favor if she sent her Vice President to give the department report. He sweetened the deal with an attached reservation for two to Helios’ most infamously overbooked five-star restaurant. Because being PA to the President had its uses and perks.

Then, just for good measure, Rhys bodily moved the guest chairs in front of Jack’s desk, removing them. Because he was petty and willing to admit that.

Two hours later, Vasquez stood in front of Jack’s desk, trying to hold onto about five different ECHOs and sporting a swollen eyebrow that no amount of concealer could cover up. His hair was out of place and his usual smug demeanor was _gone_ in the face of the impromptu meeting. Clearly his department didn’t have its reports collated and ready two weeks ahead of time, and Rhys hadn’t exactly given them the forewarning to rush anything.

Jack, for his part, didn’t look fazed at the schedule rearrangement, just sat with his elbows on his desk, tapping a pen rapidly against the surface. Every fifth tap or so was louder, and Vasquez flinched every time.

Rhys stood just to the side of Jack’s ridiculous golden chair and grinned like a knife.

When he’d finished speaking, Vasquez finally worked up the nerve to look askance at Rhys. He looked shaken. Good.

“Get out,” Jack said quietly, his tapping finally stilling.

“Uh,” Vasquez said.

“Did I _stutter_ , Wallethead? Get out.”

Vasquez nearly tripped down the stairs in his haste to leave.

Rhys smiled and gave himself a mental pat on the back. It wouldn’t be the end of it, oh no, because Rhys would hold this over Vasquez _forever_ , but on short notice, he was pretty pleased with himself.

As soon as Vasquez was gone, Jack leaned back in his throne, the backrest moving to let him recline. He linked his fingers behind his head. “Soooo. As much as I love watching the peons squirm… that seemed personal.”

Rhys let himself smile softly, shifting to sit on the corner of Jack’s desk. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He tipped his head to the side, a little coquettish, feeling _good_ about the whole thing.

“Well, lemme walk you through it, Rhysie. You show up, scented all over like you had a _fun time_ , which, good for you.” Jack unfolded a hand to give him a sarcastic thumbs up. Rhys rolled his eyes. “Then, you fuck with the schedule so Wallethead shows up first thing to blubber at me. _And_ he’s got a black eye and _you’ve_ got his scent on you.” Jack grinned, flinty. “What happened there?”

“I think I want to take an early lunch and shower again, _gross_.” Rhys said, shuddering.

“Wouldn’t help.” Jack swung his chair enough to kick Rhys in the boot. “Don’t leave me hanging, pumpkin.”

Rhys shrugged, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Well, ha ha… Let’s just say Vasquez needed a reminder of our positions in Hyperion. And that mine isn’t under him.”

“What the hell made Wallethead think he was in your friggin’ league?” Jack knocked Rhys boot again. “What’re you doing giving douchebag knotheads like him the time of day?”

“Funny you should say that,” Rhys muttered, then shook his head at the way Jack’s eyes popped wide. Shit. Rhys kept speaking, faster. “We, uh. Had a moment last night. Aaaand then I gave him that black eye when he wanted more than a moment.” He smiled again, tentatively. “I figured you wouldn’t mind helping me with some revenge.”

Jack’s eyebrows were lifted, almost imperceptibly stretching the texture of his mask. “I definitely don’t, kitten, but that doesn’t answer the real question.” He sat up, hand pointing to the door accusingly. “What are you doing giving worthless pricks like that a second glance? I know you’re, like… _new_ to this, Rhys, but come _on_.”

“I know, I know! He… made it seem like a good idea at the time. And I…” Rhys blew out a breath, leaning forward on his knees, shoulders hunched. He was making himself small again, he knew it, but… Jack wouldn’t care, he knew that too. “It’s so easy to get caught up in it, you know? Or, uh, maybe you don’t, I dunno.” He sighed. “And I was thinking about down the road, maybe? Since I’m stuck without suppressants for a few more months.”

Jack stilled, his antsy movement stopping all at once. “You going to need a week off soon, Rhysie?”

“No, not yet, but.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands. The looming spectre of his heat haunted him. “I will, eventually, doctor said. It’s fine, I think--” he let out a soft laugh. “I think I’ll probably just get in touch with one of those agencies to send someone over. Keep it professional.” Flashing Jack a smile, he slid off the desk, wandering back over to his own.

He’d only just sat in his own chair when heavy footfalls followed. “Waaaait, wait wait wait.” Jack turned Rhys’ chair with a hand on the seatback, leaning over him. “Hey, pumpkin, you know who else you have a professional relationship with? Me. And you know who’s an alpha?” He straightened, arms wide. “ _Me._ ”

Rhys nearly laughed, stifling the sound just in time as Jack’s eyes narrowed. “That-- that doesn’t seem like a good idea?” He lifted one leg onto his chair, chin on his knee as he tentatively held Jack’s gaze. “And it’s my first heat without suppressants, so going with the agency--”

Jack was _beside_ himself, hands moving and shoulders tensing. “Hold on a moment, you’ve _never_ been fucked through your heat? You’ve _always_ used suppressants?” He stared at Rhys, almost dismayed. “And you want to pop that cherry with a strange alpha you’ve never met before?”

“I’m getting the idea you disapprove,” Rhys said dryly. “But, Jack, that’s literally what the agencies are there for, they--”

Jack waved his hands more. “I know, I know, got it, but kitten, instead of doing that?” He leaned in, bracing himself on the arm of Rhys’ chair, face close, all gunpowder and warmth. His voice dropped quiet, curling like smoke: “Don’t.”

Rhys realized, maybe belatedly, that Jack _wanted_ him. It was writ in every line of his body, the way he caged in around Rhys, just keeping polite distance (or, what passed for polite for Jack). He was staring, but his eyes flicked over Rhys’ face, his eyes, mouth, down to his neck, up again.

He’d always been a force of nature to be around, hurling petnames and threats and his own skewed brand of kindness in equal measure. Rhys never thought it _meant_ anything, and maybe it hadn’t before, but.

Jack was leaning in, and when he inhaled deeply, his frown deepened, a faint growl rumbling out of his throat. Smelling Vasquez, Rhys realized. And not liking it one bit.

 _Huh_ , Rhys thought emphatically.

He turned away, relieved and satisfied with how Jack let go of his chair the moment he did. Rhys settled, tapping his computer awake and carefully not looking up. “My heat,” he said quietly, “is probably weeks or months away. But your E-Tech update with weapons development is in a half hour.”

He heard Jack’s hard exhale. “Okay, kitten. You got any notes for me to look over first?”

Rhys smiled and tapped a few keys, firing a document across the network between their desks. “I do. And you’ll like it, there’s video.”

 

* * *

 

That was the start of it, though.

At first, Rhys barely noticed. He was used to the usual courtesies that alphas gave him daily. That _Jack_ had started doing it took a while to realize. Jack suddenly forgot what person space meant, standing close to Rhys, leaning over him to look at gun displays and spacecraft schematics, guiding Rhys along with a hand on his waist. The usual handsy alpha behavior that Rhys tolerated.

There were upsides to it, though. Jack’s hands on him, his constant idle touches, apparently scented Rhys enough for other alphas to back off. Which was a plus. Rhys kept shooting knowing glances at Jack, who just grinned back at him, shameless.

That was fine.

Two weeks into it, Rhys had grown accustomed. It was just another oddity of his life. And Jack’s scent around him was nice besides, settling something in Rhys. It wasn’t really a hardship, and Jack’s mood was better for it.

Then there was an off-site check-up, a shuttle ride away from Helios. Rhys had never liked the shuttle rides, always a little keyed up for the trip. Even in space, when the shuttle was perfectly steady, he kept his eyes low, carefully not looking out the windows.

“You’re looking a little green there, kitten,” Jack said, turning his head and leaning in close even though they were the only ones on the shuttle, there was no need.

But Rhys took a deep breath, held it, letting that soothing feeling settle over his mind. Jack’s alpha posturing had its uses. “I’m fine.”

Jack’s hand settled on Rhys’ knee, fingers splayed wide, palm heavy. Rhys looked over at him, eyes narrowed, unsurprised when Jack just grinned back at him.

Sighing, Rhys looked back at his palm computer, trying to read through his notes as the shuttle hurtled through space.

Oddly, it got easier when they hit the atmosphere. The shuttle started to rock steadily as it flew across Elpis, the light gravity barely buffeting them around.

Rhys shut his eyes, breathing, letting it coax him gently. They’d be landing in an hour. Rhys would have his feet back on solid ground soon.

He must’ve dozed off for a while though. The next Rhys knew, Jack was saying his name, and he blinked out of his-- nap, apparently, god. He hadn’t thought he was so tired, but his nose was resting against Jack’s shoulder, cheek against the worn suede of his jacket. The air in his mouth was warm, heavy, and Rhys was loathe to lift his head.

“Cute as this is, pumpkin, we’re going to be late for the train,” Jack said, humor thick in his voice.

“Hmm?” Rhys slowly lifted his head, meeting Jack’s eyes. “We’ve landed?”

“Yup. Five minutes ago. You tired, Rhys? Need help sleeping at night?” His eyebrows waggled, tongue between his teeth.

“Nngh.” Rhys sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Uhm, sorry, I…”

Freed from Rhys’ weight, Jack unbuckled himself from his seat and stood, holding out a hand. “Babe, I would’ve left you to it, but we have places to be. C’mon. Train.”

Right, the train. Rhys was beginning to wonder what was so important about this eridium refinement facility-- money. Right. Eridium was money, Rhys knew that. It didn’t feel so important when he was so comfortable. He unbuckled and took Jack’s hand, letting him pull him up. “Right, I’m good, let’s go.”

The transport facility was quiet as they stepped off the shuttle, Rhys trailing behind Jack, trusting him to lead the way. There was a soft fog around Rhys’ head, something new. He’d never felt the edges of his mind go so malleable before. He’d have to snap out of it before they arrived at the facility and he needed his Personal Assistant Who Would Happily Ruin Your Career face back on, but for the moment, he was with Jack. He had a feeling Jack didn’t mind.

“Psst, this way, kitten, don’t fall behind,” Jack murmured, taking Rhys by the front of his vest and pulling him along a little quicker. Distantly, Rhys could hear the automated announcement about the train being ready to depart.

He blinked, and hurried along. “Right, yeah, sorry.”

They stepped into the doors at the last second before they slid shut, close enough that Rhys turned to make sure his coat didn’t get caught.

“Might want to hang on-- Rhys. _Rhysie._ ”

The whole train moved at once, and Rhys was nearly taken off his feet. It was a close thing, but he was held upright as the whole train jolted into motion. He leaned in, let the hold around him keep him from falling.

His weight was taken easily, an arm around his chest, keeping him against the metal pole. Drowsy still, he swayed into the grip and found, _wow_. Jack’s coat was really nice against his cheek. It was impossible to resist rubbing against the suede, and it was so warm and smelled so nice, matching the smoke in his head. Sleeping some more seemed like a great idea.

“Hey, kitten.” Jack’s words stirred his hair. “You all right? Look at me, babe.”

It took a moment, but Rhys realized he was rubbing his cheek against Jack’s lapel and stiffened. _Shit_ , what was that? The doctor had warned him of increased tactility, not-- god. He shut his eyes. “Can I not? Can we just pretend this… didn’t happen?”

“I mean, _you_ can, sure.” Jack’s hand shifted to squeeze Rhys’ shoulder. “You good?”

Rhys steadied himself against the pole and lifted his head slowly. He needed some space, some air that wasn’t so-- “Yeah, sorry. The… pills, they have, uh, effects. And I maybe need some more sleep.”

Jack leaned in, grinning in delight. “Oh, I don’t mind at all. Anytime, Rhysie.”

Glaring balefully at him, Rhys backed away until he could slump down into one of the seats along the walls of the train. “I feel very taken advantage of,” he said sullenly.

“Hey, you’re the one who was feeling me up--”

“Oh my _god_ , Jack, I wasn’t--” He bit his lip, looking down at his palm, as if he had something very pressing to look into. “Anyway.”

“Mmhm,” Jack hummed with a smirk still fixed on his face, but thankfully knew when to let it go.

 

* * *

 

That would have been the end of that in a world where Rhys worked for _anyone else_ but Handsome Jack, but he wasn’t so lucky. He managed to talk to his doctor after the train incident, get his hormone dosage lowered. To his utter lack of surprise, his tests showed his body had finally started to pick up the slack, slowly bringing him closer to a proper omega chemistry. The extra dosage of hormones wasn’t as necessary.

 _Tell me something I don’t know_ , Rhys thought, flushing when he remembered his rubbing up on Jack.

The next day, Rhys arrived at work to find a whole new problem had come about: it was absolutely _freezing_ in the office.

“Are the climate controls broken? Did the artificial winter turn on?” Rhys asked irritably after a few miserable hours of shivering at his desk.

Jack was incredibly busy standing at the window, looking out at Elpis. The purple scars of the moon reflected off the artificial skin of his mask dramatically as he turned. “Hm? Problem?”

“My problem is it’s entirely too cold in here,” Rhys groused. He stood, making his way to Jack’s desk. “What’re the controls set at?”

“Ah ah ah,” Jack said, jumping into Rhys’ path. “Collating dangerous stuff on there, no peeking.” He caught Rhys’ elbow, stilling him on the last step to the desk. “Cold?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Rhys growled, annoyed, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Okay, okay, keep the claws away, kitten, I hear ya.” Jack smoothly rolled his shoulders back, shrugging his jacket down and off, catching it in one hand and offering it over.

Rhys narrowed his eyes at it, remembering the train.

Jack shook it, eyebrows lifted. “Cold, right?”

“Yeah,” Rhys admitted, and took the jacket, drawing it around his shoulders quickly, before he could think about it further. It was a little too big in the shoulders, but it was body-warm, the heat soaking into Rhys quickly. He could _feel_ his irritation smoothing, and he tried to be subtle about the deep breath he took, inhaling Jack’s scent.

“All better? Good, what’s for lunch? Order something in for us.” Jack turned briskly away, rolling down his shirt sleeves, staring out again with a smile tilting his lips up.

“Sure,” Rhys muttered, retreating back to his desk. God, he already felt _so much better_ , the happy rush in his blood only diminished by how irritated he was at himself. He wondered if Jack knew, if he got some weird pride out of settling Rhys down. He would. Rhys always had, when he’d done the same to Jack.

Making sure Jack’s attention was still out the window, Rhys turned his head, nuzzling briefly against the collar. The jacket smelled like Jack’s expensive, musky aftershave and his scent. That was… yeah. Nice.

He shook himself, and pulled up the contact lines for Jack’s favorite delivery spots. Work to do, mundane as it was.

 

* * *

 

That evening, Rhys got back to his apartment late, yawning as he locked up behind him, wasting no time hanging up his arm for the night and throwing himself onto his sofa with a sigh. He was _exhausted_ , his sporadic sleep catching up with him hard.

Oddly, as he settled into the sofa, he was feeling pretty good. Most nights, it was around this time that the restlessness kicked in, some annoying side effect of his medication. It was only supposed to last another month or so, his body needing to rebalance or something. Rhys tried to ignore it since it didn’t bother him too much.

Until he tried to fall asleep on Jack. But they were still _never_ talking about that. Or, Jack occasionally offered his shoulder to Rhys when he looked peaky, and Rhys continued to ignore him.

Tonight, though, Rhys dragged his feet up onto his sofa, eyes lidding as he tried to follow along with the cooking program on his vid screen. It was a rare moment of relaxing, and he could _feel_ the way the knots in his spine started to unravel one by one.

He’d taken the jacket home.

Rhys sucked in a breath, sitting up as he realized he was _still_ in Jack’s damn jacket, it was hitched high around his shoulders. He-- Jack had _stood next to him_ in the elevator as they left for the night, and he’d just let Rhys…

Rhys slumped back down, eyes shut. “Oh my _god_ , Jack,” he moaned aloud. He didn’t know what was worse; the idea that just hit him, that Jack had messed with the climate controls so Rhys would _need_ his jacket, or that it’d been done so well that Rhys didn’t even realize it until he’d gotten home and was still wearing the jacket.

Jack was either very good at being an alpha or Rhys was just _really terrible_ at being an omega. Six of one, half dozen of the other.

It was hard to stay angry about it, laying there. He was still lulled, eyes trying to drift shut every time he blinked. Rhys wasn’t sure what caused it, what about the alpha pheromone thing just worked so well for him. Or, if it wasn’t even alphas in general, just Jack. Maybe he’d always known, even before the suppressant issue, about Jack’s scent, that Jack was safe to him in a way he wasn’t safe to anyone else on Helios.

Or maybe he was getting stupid from the lack of sleep and the smell of Jack he’d wrapped himself in.

Distantly, on the edge of sleep, Rhys thought about his heat, and about professionalism, and Jack. Shifting on the sofa, he buried his face into the collar of the jacket, pressed his legs together, and shut his eyes.

 

* * *

 

The next morning should have been one of the more embarrassing moments of Rhys’ life, handing Jack back his jacket with it smelling more of sleeping omega than smug asshole alpha. It should have been, but for how Jack said nothing, just took the jacket back with little more than a smile, his eyes lingering hot on Rhys’ face.

“Sleep well, kitten?” Jack murmured as he shrugged his jacket back on.

“Yeah,” Rhys admit softly. Ducking his head, he went back to his desk. “Let’s get started.”

“Hm?” Jack sent him a wink. “Thought we already had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was in the ER again. that was fun. here, just... have fic. say nice things if you are so inclined, as I am still recovering and am weak to that action.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack told Rhys that they needed to take a walk around R&D, which was one of the most irritating things he could have planned for the day.

R&D was a misnomer. There was no way of just _taking a walk_ through it. It was half of Helios, sprawling across the much of the space station, tiered floors and labyrinthine hallways, a few terrifyingly steep drops into… Rhys didn’t know what, he tried not to look over the railings. There were tanks full of eridium-pumped genetic experiments, laser systems with lenses as large as Rhys’ entire apartment, entire departments lit only in luminescent flora, and more sealed doors marked _CLASSIFIED_ than Rhys could count.

Rhys had an internal map of Helios downloaded onto his main drive to pull up as he needed, but he still got the impression R&D changed around every time he turned his back on it.

Point being, when Jack wanted to spend time there, Rhys scowled silently and cleared the schedule for the rest of the day, just hoping he’d get out of there before ten in the evening.

“Why the long face, kitten?” Jack asked, tapping one knuckle under Rhys’ chin.

“We’re getting lunch before going,” Rhys said sourly, slapping Jack’s hand away. “I am not eating anything that comes from an R&D floor.”

“Your weird distrust of the best part of Helios is noted again.”

At least it was easy on Rhys. Even more than usual, he was just shadowing Jack as the president stalked through the various projects, surprising every team leader with his presence and probing questions. Jack did not need Rhys’ help being intimidating, and for once Rhys wasn’t expected to keep notes on the day. He just followed Jack and had fun smiling sweetly at the twitchier of the engineers and developers, just to see their anxious reactions.

Rhys had the luxury of long legs, making it easy to keep up. Otherwise, he left Jack to it, looking around idly and listening with one ear as Jack questioned people in his most uncomfortable mock-amiable voice, the one that could tip into murderous at the drop of a hat.

He could have been in the office, setting up next month’s calendar with fresh coffee within easy reach. Instead, he sighed, staring into one of the wildlife enclosures, arms wrapped around himself, hands tucked into his own sleeves. It was cool enough to justify his nice black knit coat with the gold striping. Comfy, but eye-catching, his favorite combination lately.

(Besides, if he even looked like he might be cold, Jack would try to foist his jacket onto Rhys again, and Rhys wasn’t ready to walk around all of R&D like that.)

The enclosure was nice, with artificial waterfalls, misting spray raining down on the green, mossy space. There were trees that looked entirely too natural, the effect like seeing a piece of the Edens chopped loose and set in the middle of the space station.

Rhys leaned an elbow against the glass, staring down. Sometimes he wondered if he missed planetside living. It’d been so long, it was hard to tell.

He took a breath, picked up on the familiar scent of Jack coming in close. The scientists must have been sufficiently scared off, as Jack braced his elbow on the glass near Rhys’ shoulder, leaning in, almost breathing against the back of his neck. “We can get a closer look.”

Rhys shrugged. “Whatever you like.”

“All right, all right. I just want to go scare the hell out of a few more people, then we can be done.”

Rhys smiled genuinely for the first time in at least three hours. “Good. I want to have a decontamination shower and a bath after this.”

“Ooh,” Jack said quietly.

“You’re not invited, party of one,” Rhys replied tartly. “Let’s go.”

Snorting, Jack backed away. “Tell me, Rhysie, how’s that going to work for you? Going to go with a nice bubble bath? I bet you have a ton of those little bath bomb things, you’re the kind of guy who knows how to unwind. Mood lighting setting? Or are you going to break out the actual candles, are you fancy like that? Maybe some wine too.”

Rhys turned to fall into step with him. “I’m not sure where to _start_ … The fact you _know_ what a bath bomb is, maybe. Or that you’ve thought about this so much.” He tipped his head. “I _do_ have this bottle of wine I need to open…”

“Sounds like _fun_.”

Rhys shot him a look. “Not with the size of my bathtub. Bet you have a massive one,” he said, a little dreamily. “Overlooking the stars, like one of those infinity pools.”

“Want to find out?” Jack waggled his eyebrows. Rhys just smiled, shaking his head.

Down the stairs, the animal enclosures were oddly quiet. There seemed to be very few personnel around all of a sudden, and Rhys steps slowed as he looked around. “Where are they?”

Jack’s face was drawn into a tight look, his good humor shucked off his face. “That’s a damn good question, kitten.”

They stepped down into the labs outside the enclosure, and Jack froze halfway down, throwing a hand out. “Shit.”

“What?” Rhys lifted up on his toes, trying to see what had Jack suddenly tense and angry.

“There’s an enclosure open, get-- shit.” Jack doubled back, catching Rhys with a firm hold of his elbow, leading him along with a grip that allowed no argument. “Stalker enclosure, where the _hell_ are the alarms?”

Rhys wasn’t certain what a stalker was, but Jack was walking fast and looked _pissed_ , so he didn’t want to find out. “I can-- I have an emergency alarm, here.” He tapped at his arm, setting it off quickly.

Jack’s focus was elsewhere, his eyes flicking around, narrow and alert. “When I figure out who--”

He stopped all at once, grabbing Rhys around the waist and throwing him down to the ground, towards one of the empty labs. Rhys landed hard, cursing, and turned just in time to watch Jack unholster his Vision pistol and fire into the air.

It wasn’t _air_ , though, but a shimmer of heat that shrieked in fury as it fell to the hard ground. Jack continued to unload his entire magazine into the _thing_ , the-- crouched, angular creature with its vicious sharp wings and tail. _Stalker_ , he assumed.

When it was still, Jack reloaded briskly. “Back up, get under the desk, Rhys, _now_.”

“What the _hell_ is--” Rhys started, voice shaking.

“ _Now_ , Rhys, move it!”

The whipcrack of command in Jack’s voice catapulted Rhys into motion. He scurried away quickly, sliding over the metal floor until he rounded the desk and could duck underneath, his heart pounding. “What are those things doing out?” he hissed.

“We’ll find out later.” Jack stood over the desk, pistol in hand. “Get a containment team down here, and take this, press the center.”

He’d unhooked his pocketwatch, passing it back to Rhys, who took it with shaking hands. “Why?”

“Rhys, you question me again before we’re out of this, I’m going to be really unhappy with you, babe.” His tone was bright, but false, shaking Rhys up further.

“Right, sorry, uh. I-- I set off my alarm, they should be on their way.” The bulky pocketwatch sat in his palm, and he frowned at it. He’d never seen it up close like this, noticed the circuitry integrated into the face. His thumb brushed over it. It lit up before a field rippled out of it, pouring over Rhys’ arms, up his shoulders, down over his curled-up form. In its wake, he was… “Since when is your watch a cloak?!”

“Long story.” Jack glanced back at Rhys, then nodded once, stepping away, to the door of the lab they’d hidden in.

Rhys gasped, flinging out a hand. “Jack, don’t-- what are you _doing_ , don’t leave.”

Jack was quiet for a second before unloading another magazine down the hallway, out of Rhys’ sight. “I’m not leaving you, sweetheart, just keep still.” At long last, alarms started to go off around them, and Jack laughed, a little manically. “Ooooh, when I find out who screwed this up so much, they’ll _wish_ for a fast death. I can make strangulation last a _long_ , long time.”

Rhys knew that sometimes violence was part of Jack’s position at Hyperion. He really did, there weren’t any blinders on his eyes about the meetings Rhys _didn’t_ accompany Jack to, or the times he’d seen Jack splattered with red.

It was different with a dark curl in his words, his hands settled around a gleaming pistol. Rhys had rarely seen Jack fire a gun before, he realized belatedly. He looked comfortable doing it. It helped the pinched, panicked feeling in Rhys’ chest.

The sirens were so loud, though, and distantly he heard more gunfire and animalistic screeching. “Jack, _please_ come in here, j-just lock the door.”

“Shh, nothin’ is getting here.” His attention shifted, still outside the room, and he whistled loudly. “Hey, round up the stragglers and get the damn enclosure locked off, hurry it up!”

It took time before Jack finally stepped away from his sentry position, pistol finally tucking away. It was only then he shut the lab door, turning to Rhys’ hiding spot. “Uncloak, Rhys, come here, babe.”

His hands still shook as he did, pressing the center of the watch again. The cloak melted off him with the vaguest feeling of static. As he reappeared, Jack held out his hands, both of them, and pulled Rhys to his feet. One hand lifted to Rhys’ jaw, palm cupping his face. “Hey, you’re fine, it’s handled.”

It was. Rhys shut his eyes, leaning into Jack’s hand, taking a shuddering breath. “How does… how did that _happen_?”

“I’ll find out,” Jack murmured, thumb brushing across Rhys’ face. “Look at me, Rhysie, you all right?”

He was. Now that it was over, his fear settled quickly. It’d happened so fast, but Jack had… gotten him safe, stood over him, kept him hidden, all so quickly.

Stood over Rhys with a gun in hand until the danger had passed.

Rhys bit his lip, letting his eyes open, trying not to be caught up in the weird feeling of being cared for. It was-- it settled warm over him anyway, embarrassing as it was. Jack confident and calm with a gun in hand, keeping watch over Rhys, there was something to be said about that.

Jack was watching him, face close, and whatever he saw in Rhys’ face made him grin. “Oh, you’re all right.” He let go to pull his gun out again, spinning it on a finger with his smirk firmly in place. “Did you like that, pumpkin? Get you all hot under the collar?” After some more practiced gun twirling, he slid the pistol away again.

Rhys rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself. “If it did, you ruined it just now.”

Jack’s grin didn’t fade at all. “Sure thing. Ready to get out of here?”

“ _God_ , yes.” When Jack left, Rhys followed, close on his heels, a hand tucked against Jack’s elbow.

He hated R&D.

 

* * *

 

The ride out of R&D back to the Hub took time. For a moment, Rhys tried to do something on his palm computer, get a little work done, but the run in with the stalkers left him tense, his concentration shot.

All he managed was to silently turn to Jack, the pocketwatch in hand, clipping it back onto Jack’s jacket, reconnecting the chain to his lapel.

Jack, for his part, held still under Rhys’ attention, nodding with satisfaction as Rhys smoothed down jacket and lowered his hands.

“A cloaking pocketwatch,” Rhys said dully.

“I get all the fun toys.” Jack winked, and Rhys shook his head, laughing.

As they lapsed into silence again, Rhys tucked his arms into his sleeves again, trying to be subtle about holding himself. A moment later, he felt Jack’s hand settle on the small of his back, tucked under his knit coat to press warm into his skin through his shirt.

Rhys let him, exhaling a soft sigh at how it settled him a little more. Jack’s thumb rubbed in circles, comforting.

“You know,” Jack said quietly, “I’m going to be in the office getting to the bottom of who screwed up so friggin’ badly. You,” and here he squeezed faintly, “should head home. Relax, maybe break out that wine and bubble bath.”

Rhys smiled wanly. “I’d correct you, but it seems cruel to deprive you of this weird fantasy you have about me in bubble baths.”

“Could always go to my place, use mine. Give me something good to come home to.” Jack’s thumb was sweet, warm pressure against his spine. “Want to be nice, kitten, after the day we’ve had?”

“I told you R&D tours were awful,” Rhys said, dodging the question as the doors opened to Jack’s office. “Sure you don’t need me?”

Jack’s hand leaving his back was a disappointment, and Rhys was careful not to show it on his face. Stepping out of the elevator, Jack turned to look at Rhys, lingering on the threshold and keeping the doors open. “You’re not going to miss anything, kitten. I’m just going to figure some things out and have a _talk_ with the responsible parties in the labs. Unless they’re smart enough to get the hell off this space station before I get their names.”

“Don’t strangle them,” Rhys said, voice hard. “Do something more. Maybe drop them into the stupid stalker enclosure.”

Jack’s eyebrows lifted, his expression almost gleeful. “I will take that under advisement.”

“Good.” Rhys nodded. “Well, call me if you need, anyway. And... “ he looked away, at the space just left of Jack’s shoulder before meeting his eyes again. “Thanks. For all that.”

Jack’s lips curled up and he took a half-step closer. “Does your valiant, handsome protector get a reward for his hard work?”

Rhys couldn’t help but smile at that. “I am not letting you watch me in the bath, Jack. Let it go.”

Jack still stepped closer, something of a prowl to his movements, the lingering confidence of his gunplay wrought into the set of his shoulders. Rhys stood his own ground, just watching, still until Jack was right in front of him and his breath stuttered just once.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t the back of Jack’s fingers brushing under Rhys’ jaw and his mouth against Rhys’, two single points of contact. Rhys’ eyes slid shut, his body still as Jack kissed him, lips moving slowly.

The lingering embers of his worries just went out, like a blanket had been tossed over them, snuffing them all out at once. This was easier, and filled Rhys’ mind in place of the tension, pluming out like smoke until there wasn’t room for anything else but the dry press of their mouths.

It lingered, both of them breathing steadily through their noses, unwilling to break apart. This might’ve been what being hypnotized felt like. Rhys had no complaints, made no movements. He didn’t want to scare the feeling away.

A lifetime later, Jack stepped back. It took a long sleepy second for Rhys to open his eyes again. “Oh,” Rhys sighed, blinking.

Jack let go, fingers sweeping against the vulnerable skin behind Rhys’ chin. “See you tomorrow, Rhysie.” He leaned over, tapped the elevator button for the residential area, and let the doors shut between them.

Dazed, Rhys felt the elevator move, finally jostling him out of the nice soft mental place he’d been coaxed into.

He frowned and thumped his head back against the wall. _God_ , Jack was… just not playing _fair_.

 

* * *

 

The worst part of everything, of almost a month of Jack’s attention on him, the weird… nice gestures that had filled the free time in their days together, all of it was kind of _working_ for Rhys.

When he got back to his apartment, he didn’t bother with dinner, just broke out the wine he’d stolen from Vasquez before, and had two glasses, standing in his kitchen and glaring at his own blurry reflection in the fridge for lack of anyone else to glare at.

The last thing Rhys wanted was to be easy, but _god_. He drank a mouthful of shockingly good wine, and thought about the broad line of Jack’s shoulders, his arms lifted and hands folded confidently around his pistol. The way his arms moved with the recoil of each shot he fired, how his hands moved fast over the reloading. It was just a different type of violence than Rhys had ever seen from Jack, and he couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it.

He pressed his legs together, frowning as he felt… Rhys cursed, leaving the rest of the wine in the sink and stalking off because he needed a shower.

He dumped his clothes on the floor, stripping on his way, taking off his arm before running the shower. It couldn’t be a bath, that was too _much_ right now, and he just needed-- it needed to be fast, he didn’t want to dwell on it.

The water was just barely cool enough for him to stand, making him hiss at first, as it beat down on his shoulders, down his back. The steam was immediate and intense, and Rhys imagined all the worry and fear from the day just rushing off him, down the drain. He could scrub it right out of his skin, be pink and new underneath.

The shower carried the slick down his thighs, and it was somehow _hotter_ than just the hot water. Rhys bit his lip, leaning against the shower wall so the stream hit his lower back. It never seemed enough, he was just wet, wanting, and it kept coming.

“You _asshole_ ,” Rhys muttered angrily. It was always hard one-handed, but Rhys managed to reach back, not bothering to try and jerk off when he was this slick and ready. Nothing else _worked_ , and it was agony to pretend otherwise.

Two fingers weren’t enough this time, and soon Rhys was whimpering, mouth open against the shower wall, three fingers buried to the knuckle into his ass. He rocked back against them the best he could, feeling the tension in his belly, the tightness, _god_ , he was so easy like this. He didn’t know why it just felt so much better, how he’d given this up when he was younger, the lightning pleasure in his spine and hips, making his legs shake.

He came shaking with Jack’s name on his lips, slumping bonelessly against the wall. It took a moment to work his fingers back out of himself, the glide so wet and easy he moaned softly. If he wanted, he could get another, he thought, if he just tried again and thought about how Jack’s scent felt around his shoulders, that smug attractive grin. Jack would know how to get Rhys there again, he wouldn’t settle for _one_.

But. An orgasm and too much wine _and_ hot water, though, was a dangerous combination. Rhys rinsed off, shivering, and braced himself carefully as he stepped out of the shower, head spinning. He felt like a raw nerve of want, but… it’d pass. He could sleep this off and if he was lucky, he’d even be able to meet Jack’s eyes in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am not going to jinx things and say I'm starting to feel better, i've learned my lesson from last time i did that.
> 
> this is the penultimate chapter tho, whoo.


	7. Chapter 7

The entire stalker incident ended up being so idiotic, it was hard for Rhys to decide to be angry or just baffled. Jack explained it to him the next day thusly;

“So the teams that work with the animals are split between Elpis wildlife and Pandora wildlife, right? Well, obviously the Elpis team gets less funding because it’s _Elpis_. Is there natural eridium there? No, so we don’t give as much of a shit. But they don’t _get_ that, so when they heard El Presidente was doing a tour of R &D, they wanted to make the Pandora team look bad in hopes of getting their funding cut.”

Rhys frowned over the rim of his coffee. “That… is not how funding works.”

“These idiots are in R&D, not finances. Anyway, they sent a faked security email to the Pandora team telling them it was time for the monthly siren test, that the alarms needed to be taken offline--”

Rhys sputtered. “ _What?_ ”

“Yeah, it’s stupid and while the Pandora team’s still alive, they’re also really, _really_ on my shitlist. So, no alarms, and the Elpis team remotely opened the stalker enclosure, then… forgot that people _might_ get killed by the incredibly deadly monsters we keep around here.” Jack grimaced.

“How dead are they?” Rhys asked.

“I gave them 24 hours in the stalker enclosure with standard electric prods used to corral the stalkers. Last I checked, it’s hour 16 and there’s three left.”

Rhys nodded, satisfied. “I’m glad.”

“I’ve also got video, if you wanna see. It’s like a gladiator fight, but with a bunch of nerds with vitamin D deficiencies.”

The idea of that made Rhys’ stomach lurch, and he shook his head hard. “Uh, no. I like to think I’m good at the whole vengeance thing, but watching that part… ugh.”

“Yeah, and you’re looking a bit _eeeeh_ again,” Jack pointed out. “You feeling okay, pumpkin?”

“Not… really. I think its just the hormone stuff. If I’m still sick tomorrow, I’ll go to the doctor. They keep having to tweak my…” Rhys stopped, looking down at his hands, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

Months of this now, and it was strange. When it was just them in the office, Rhys felt his iron posture melt. This morning, they were having coffee before the day really started, and Rhys was sitting in his chair with his feet tucked up, wanting that feeling of small and warm that dangled in front of him so often now that he was closer to an omega’s body chemistry. Jack could’ve been a shit about it from the start, and barring his odd moments of just being smug or… _stunningly_ helpful, he’d been good. Safe.

Rhys thought of Handsome Jack as a safe entity. That probably said terrible things about him.

He was in his cardigan, letting himself soak in the warmth of it before the first meetings on the docket came along and he’d have to put it away, sit up straight and do his job. Jack sat in his guest chair, feet up on the corner of Rhys’ desk. It was comfortable.

“S’fine, Rhysie,” Jack said between sips of his coffee.

Rhys stared at him for a moment, gathering some courage. “You’ve been… really nice about this whole mess.”

Jack nodded, like he’d been expecting that. “Way I see it, you’re the least boring thing here. And nothing short of a coma keeps you from doing your job. It’s good sometimes, having a nice omega around, especially when they’re not a _nice_ omega.”

“I’m plenty nice.”

“Smiling when you have a knife to someone’s back isn’t being _nice_ , kitten.” Jack chuckled to himself, climbing out of the chair and heading back towards his desk.

“I have never used a knife,” Rhys shot back. “You’re the one who can’t keep hands off.”

Jack turned on his heel, eyes bright. “Kept them off you, haven’t I?”

“Sit down,” Rhys said coolly. “People will be here soon, you have to be respectable.” But he was smiling.

 

* * *

 

Rhys went to bed that night feeling a little feverish, skin tingling. Normally, the feeling of his ridiculously expensive bedsheets was a relief, and he’d lay there a few minutes before falling asleep, shifting his legs, soaking in the texture, and that was _before_ the omega thing happened, bringing all that increased tactility with it.

Tonight, it was almost too much, leaving him feeling like his skin was burning without any heat. It was late as he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into the pillow, trying to lay still. For a while, he thought about calling the doctor despite the hour, but… if he lay still, it was bearable, and he didn’t want to move. The idea of hauling himself over the Medical was too much for him.

It’d wait ‘til morning, and he’d be able to get new pills, and he’d be fine.

That was the plan, anyway.

But the thing about having never really been an omega before was the Rhys didn’t know what a heat felt like without suppressants. When he woke up, though.

For a while, it was hard to even know he was awake. His dreams melted into hazy reality, half-formed ideas translating easily into the dark of his room, his eyes fluttering open and closed. He felt _awful_ , a roiling tension deep in his belly that poked and prodded at him every time he tried to get back to sleep to avoid it. But he _felt_ amazing, his hand skating over his neck, against his chest. His skin felt so soft, the rest of the station should’ve been jealous of him for being able to lie there and skate his fingers across himself.

If it was someone else, it would’ve been better though. Rhys moaned, thinking about it, someone’s hands on him right now. It’d be _incredible_ , he needed that. Distracted at the idea, he dug his heels into the bed, arching off it, gasping as he felt how fucking _slick_ he was, reaching down and finding the inside of his thighs already wet.

Oh god. Oooooh, no, it was here. Rhys whined through his teeth. He wasn’t ready for this, he hadn’t prepared anything, hadn’t even looked at the agency or what he was supposed to do. Oh, _shit_.

It was hard to concentrate on the specifics, but Rhys knew this was bad, that he needed to do something. Being alone for a heat without suppressants was not good.

Rolling over didn’t help much. As soon as he was on his stomach, his dick pressed into the sheets, just slightly damp, clinging, so good to just rock against. He let out a choked sob as he worked his hips, unable to _stop_ , and orgasms slipped sweetly over him like it was nothing, coming between breaths.

That was enough to let him fling out his hand, dragging his ECHOcomm off his bedside table and close enough to jab at the buttons. As soon as it let out the tone, signalling it was connecting, Rhys rolled over onto his side, rubbing his legs together. God, it just kept _coming_ , how did anyone handle this?

“Bit late for the breakfast order,” Jack said, tinny over the line.

Rhys huffed out a laugh that trailed off into a whimper. He needed-- his fingers slid so easily inside his slick hole, and Rhys cursed. “N-- not calling for that,” he managed.

“Rhys? What’s wrong, talk to me, babe.”

“Not going to be in today,” Rhys managed between puffs of breath. “Sort of c-come down with something.”

Jack’s voice dropped into something quiet and private. “Oh, I think I can guess. How are you, kitten, do you need anything?”

Rhys bit his lip, twisting his fingers inside himself. It was so hot and wet, it was _too_ wet, his fingers gliding off everything without friction. It was so frustrating, Rhys quickly shoved three fingers in, hoping it would help. The pressure still just wasn’t enough, wasn’t catching on anything. “I-I-I don’t know, fuck.” He whined. “Don’t hang up, don’t.”

“Is that what you want, Rhysie?” Jack’s voice was deadly steady now, and Rhys loved it. “You want me to talk you through it? Want me to listen? Are you going to fuck yourself to my voice, kitten?”

Rhys turned his head into the bed to muffle his upset sounds, shoving his fingers in deeper. It was so good, the noise reverberating through him like a struck chord.

But it also wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get the pressure he needed, everything too slick, and it was almost _painful_. “I can’t,” he choked out. “Jack, I can’t, it’s not working, _please_.”

The ECHOcomm clicked, the line going silent, and Rhys shouted incoherently, furious. How _could_ he, how could he just abandon Rhys like this, didn’t he _understand_?!

Rhys tried to jerk off, his hand wet and moving easily, but then there wasn’t anything inside him and it wasn’t good at all. He rolled, fumbling for his bedside table. He didn’t know, maybe there was something there, _anything_. He could get up, attach his arm to try and _express order_ something, there had to be something to help. Never before had his one arm been so lacking, but maybe he just needed some kind of tool.

Nothing was the right shape, even for an emergency. If only he’d gotten over himself before, bought that _shower aid_ for omegas a month ago like he’d considered, but no, he’d just let it sit in his bookmarks and never actually bought it.

His doorbell was ringing, he noticed distantly. He frowned into the bed, thinking… maybe he had ordered the thing in his incoherent daze, maybe they were delivering it? But he couldn’t answer the door like this and his legs already felt too weak. He whined, wanted to _cry_.

The ringing stopped, and his alarm went off, making him stiffen in fear for two seconds. Then, gruffly, he heard, “Okay, enough of that shit,” and the beeping stopped.

He rolled slowly onto his back again, groaning at the effort, and lifted his head.

He was just in time to see Jack appear in his bedroom doorway, leaning heavily on the frame. He was silhouetted by the light, face too dark to read. “Oh, Rhys, what a state you’re in.”

God, he could smell him, he smelled so warm and very suddenly Rhys was shivering, cold. “Help, help, Jack, please,” he whimpered, holding out his hand, fingers glistening, trying to beckon Jack in.

Jack took off his jacket, his vest, stripping quickly as he walked closer. Rhys managed to sit up, reaching out to grab his belt, unbuckling it and dragging it loose. He got distracted as soon as Jack’s chest was bare, slumping heavily against him, nuzzling the spot just under his ribs.

“I’ve got you, babe, it’s gonna be fine,” Jack said, moving around Rhys, continuing to undress. “Actually, it’s going to be _great_ , lay back, baby.”

Instead, Rhys dragged his tongue against Jack’s chest, because Jack tasted warm, which didn’t even make sense but didn’t _matter_.

“Oh, you… you are something pretty, Rhysie. Come on, back now.” Jack pushed him down, and Rhys whined, wondering why Jack was suddenly being so _mean_ to him.

Then Jack climbed onto the bed, on his knees, hands on Rhys’ hips, lifting them so his dick dragged against Rhys’ ass. Shaking, Rhys nodded, rocking, trying to get him in. He felt big, bigger than Rhys’ fingers, maybe it’d finally be enough to _do something_.

“Easy, I’ve got you, Rhys, just like this, easy.” His words didn’t make sense, but were placating, and his _dick_ even more so as it sunk into Rhys, steady and inexorable. Rhys’ lips parted soundlessly, eyes going unfocused as Jack pressed into him, definitely wider than his fingers and so _hot_.

Soon, the only thing he could hear over his own heartbeat was the wet sound of Jack fucking into him, thrusting over and over, seeming to sink deeper every time, making Rhys _shake_ , incoherent and drunk off the feeling. He fumbled his hand up, gripping Jack’s bicep, just holding on as he was fucked relentlessly, finally hitting that deep, sticky-warm thing he needed.

He came again, and it did _nothing_ , and Rhys nearly sobbed. “Shh, shh, almost there, just--” Jack growled, hips moving hard as he came, his knot swelling, already tucked inside Rhys.

Rhys lay there, staring unseeingly into the middle distance, just feeling the way it widened to fill him, how warm it was, and how it…

Sighing, Rhys slumped back against the bed, finally able to _think_. He was caught, Jack’s knot tugging gently at him, and he hummed, his hand laying over his stomach peacably.

“Oh,” Rhys sighed. “That’s what the fuss is about. Okay.”

Over him, Jack laughed, a little breathless. “Hey. There you are, Rhys.”

Opening his eyes took a moment, but when he did, Jack was leaning over him on his hands, and smiling as he watched. Rhys frowned. “What?”

“Oh, nuthin’, pumpkin,” Jack said, his fingers brushing against Rhys’ temple, his nails blunt and scraping nicely against his hairline. “Just wondering if you still needed to call that agency, or--”

“Oh, shut _up_ ,” Rhys snapped. “You win, congratulations, what do you want, a prize?”

Jack’s grin was _electric_. He closed his hands against Rhys’ sides, holding him still as he pulled back, his knot tugging hard against Rhys’ ass, making Rhys jerk and cry out before he rocked back in, all of his weight coming down to bear of Rhys. “Oh, I think I have my prize right here.”

“Oh _god_.” Rhys shuddered, pawing at Jack’s shoulders, holding on. It felt so good, everything was so thick around him, inside him. The heat pulsed and flared, making him whine.

Jack shushed him again, nose against his temple, breathing in deeply. “God, you smell so good, Rhys. You always do, but, _damn_.” He tongue peeked out against his skin, licking away a few beads of sweat.

“Mmhm.” Rhys shut his eyes again. “I… I can feel it coming again. Is it supposed to, so soon?”

“Oh, this is nothing yet, buttercup. You got a few days of this to go.” He sounded _delighted_ at the idea.

“Uh, the… the schedule, I need my arm, I’ll--”

“Took care of it on the elevator ride over. Hey.” Jack took his chin in hand, kissed him, salt and coffee on his tongue. “I’ve got you, don’t worry. Don’t I take care of you, Rhysie?”

Rhys nodded slowly, feeling something pulling at him, dragging him down. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Jack’s knot slipped out of him, and he shuddered. “God.”

“Yeah. This is going to be great.” Jack kissed his forehead, then pushed up and off him. “I’m gonna grab some stuff, you just lay there. Shout if it gets bad, I’ll sort you out again.”

“What a hardship for you,” Rhys groused, watching him go. It would have been bad, being left alone. He could feel the way the heat was burning through him, making everything so much _more_ than usual.

Inhaling deeply, he tasted Jack’s scent, lingering over him, and felt something inside him calm, just for a moment. He rested, watching the doorway with half-lidded eyes, and decided this was good. He could do this.

 

* * *

 

The second day, Rhys was surprised that Jack stuck around.

“What? I did a competitive pitch against your friggin’ _agency_ and you think I’m not going to follow through?” Jack scoffed as he fucked Rhys slow and steady in the bathtub, the water splashing around them with each beat of his hips. “I’m insulted, Rhysie.”

Rhys bit Jack on the neck, just the scrap of his teeth and light pressure before he was gasping again around Jack’s knot. “Yes, yes yes yes, please.”

Jack tipped his head back, dragging his tongue against Rhys’ neck, broad strokes of his tongue that made Rhys moan as he was knotted again. It was so weird, but felt so good, but that seemed to be how the entire heat thing worked. “I like you this way, I think.”

Rhys exhaled as the tension in him released. He shifted his hips, just to feel the pull inside him. “Mm. What, like… hanging off your knot? How very alpha of you.”

Jack pinched his side. “No, you ungrateful little shit, like this.” He nipped at Rhys’ neck, a spot that made sparks flash behind Rhys’ eyes, dangerous and intimate. “If I just wanted to fuck an omega through their heat, I could do that, babe.”

Rhys kissed him to shut him up. It was easier that way, at least now. And Jack kissed so well.

 

* * *

 

The third day of his heat, Rhys barely remembered. It was overwhelming, crushing him down. He felt like he couldn’t see-- not that he was blind, but nothing really connected in his mind, just colors.

He saw the strange blue color of Jack’s scar, distinctive and pretty amid all the other hues. He pawed at Jack’s chest, leaned in to kiss it, and felt Jack’s surprised inhale against his chin. It was awful, every second of it, but it was good too, singing in Rhys’ blood.

It was easy to work by touch. Jack’s constant smug running commentary on everything faded into soft noises and questions mouthed against Rhys’ skin. It took nothing to push Jack onto his back against the sofa and ride him. Rhys tucked his face in close, purring happily into his ear as his thighs began to ache. “C’mon,” he breathed. “C’mon, fill me up, please, please, need it, Jack.”

Jack swore, helping Rhys move, mouthing at that spot on Rhys’ neck that made his spine light up. It was good, the drag of his teeth pulling Rhys in closer.

Rhys didn’t even remember coming, only being settled onto his side, limbs tangled with Jack’s, feeling more content than he ever had in his life.

Before long, he licked Jack’s collarbone, asked, “Again?” His voice was plaintive, desperate.

Jack nodded. “Yeah, again.”

 

* * *

 

The fourth day, and Rhys could feel himself starting to come out of it.

That was when Jack got _demanding_. Rhys had joked about hanging off his knot, because it was such a terrible thing to say, even he knew that as an almost-beta. But it was the truth. Jack made him eat something in the morning, and then just went at him.

Rhys was crying from it, bent over the sofa, the kitchen counter, against the wall of the shower, just holding on and nearly sobbing as Jack fucked into him, filling him up so much he didn’t know how much dripping down his thighs was slick and how much was come.

Something just broke open in Rhys’ chest, scared and unsure. He never wanted to be helpless or weak, but after the fifth time, Jack kissed his neck and knotted him tightly, and Rhys hung his head, shoulders shaking. He’d never know how overwhelming it could be, how the pleasure could wrap up into a ball in his chest, layered over and over until he could feel it butting against his fucking ribs and just wanted to _sob_.

He was pathetically grateful when Jack let him lie down after that, hiding his face. He saw the wet tracks on Rhys’ face, there was no way he didn’t _know_. But he didn’t say anything.

Or, about that, anyway.

After resting, Rhys woke up to Jack halfway inside him. His back arched, marveling at how it _still_ felt so exquisitely good. He didn’t understand how he could still be dragged into this, the sharp blade of pleasure cutting ever deeper every time.

“Jaaaack,” Rhys moaned, curling his legs around Jack’s hips.

Jack was staring at him, eyes animal bright and wet. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this, Rhysie?” He settled in to the hilt, breathing hard out his nose while Rhys whimpered around the stretch. “At first, I thought it _was_ the cherry thing, the conquest.”

“Jack,” Rhys said again, writhing.

Jack rotated his hips, smiling as Rhys gasped. “Flag in the, nngh, sand,” he went on. “S’not that.” His dick slid in, stretching Rhys for the hundredth time, driving against Rhys’ prostate with practiced ease. By now, he knew exactly how to drive Rhys out of his mind. Or back into it, given how heat fucks worked.

His hand settled on Rhys’ stomach, pressing as his hips stuttered. “Stick with me, babe. Feel that? Feel--” he grunted, bending forward as he released hot and wet into Rhys, his knot filling out again.

Rhys moaned thinly, eyes fluttering. Clumsily, he put his own hand over Jack’s, humming a vague affirmative.

“Yeah, this.” His thumb rubbed against Rhys’ navel. “ _This_ is mine now. You can go on to fuck a thousand people, but this was _mine_ first.” He grinned, his other hand settling on Rhys’ belly, so warm and soothing. “And you’ll never forget that, will you, sweetheart?”

Rhys shut his eyes, his hand folded in with Jack’s on his stomach, and said nothing.

When Jack leaned in and nudged their mouths together, he opened up and kissed back.

 

* * *

 

It couldn’t last forever. Which, thank god, because Rhys didn’t think he’d survive it.

Rhys woke slowly on the fifth day, and his head was… mostly clear. He felt _exhausted_ , a bone deep weariness that held him down to the bed like cinderblocks. His hand was laying in front of his line of sight, and he watched his fingers twitch uselessly.

Even tucking his arm down under the blankets was a huge effort. After, Rhys shut his eyes again, happy to simply doze there. He was in his own bed. The sheets felt clean; someone must’ve changed them.

Jack’s arm was heavy as an anchor around his waist, holding Rhys back against his chest. His palm was curled, cradling Rhys’ ribs. He was heavy, solid, and when Rhys inhaled, it was all gunpowder and alpha warmth.

It was nice. Rhys smiled, nuzzling into his pillow, which smelled the same. If he kept quiet, if he lay still, all the responsibilities outside his room wouldn’t take note and would just pass him over. He wouldn’t have to look at the mess of Jack’s schedule after the four day wrecking ball that had been slammed into it. He wouldn’t need to go check in with the doctor. He could just rest, recuperate from his heat.

That sounded _amazing_ , honestly.

For minutes or maybe hours (Rhys had no idea), that worked. It only stopped when he felt Jack stir. His bedpartner nosed sleepily against Rhys’ neck, mumbling something that was barely words, let alone an actual sentence.

Rhys stretched, long and luxurious, sure to press himself back against Jack more. “Hmm?”

Jack’s hold on him tightened, nothing more than a grunt working out of his mouth. His face pressed against the back of Rhys’ neck, close enough for Rhys to feel the furrows of his scar.

He couldn’t blame him. Jack had worked hard. If he was with one of the agencies, Rhys would give him a very positive review. Five stars and all.

Jack let out an irritated noise. “What’re you giggling about?”

“Just thinking,” Rhys whispered. It felt like the time for whispers, soft and warm and dark. “I’d leave you a glowing review if there was a database for that.”

“Go back to sleep, babe.” Jack ran his teeth down the line of Rhys’ neck, sucking at the hot point near his tattoo, the one that made Rhys shiver with electricity shivering through him. Bonding, right. Rhys should’ve read up on that, found out why it felt so-- so _much_ when Jack toyed with that spot.

“We should get up,” Rhys said in the same quiet voice, hoping Jack wouldn’t hear. “The longer I spend here, the harder catching up on my job is going to be.”

“I think,” Jack said, pausing to kiss Rhys’ ear, “your boss is willing to cut you some slack. Provided you shut up and let him go back to sleep.”

Rhys tucked his face into the pillow, muffling his laughter. “Okay. Okay.”

 

* * *

 

At six months, Rhys went to the doctor, had all his bloodwork done, and had been given a sympathetic headshake and instructions to remain on the medication a little longer.

Seven months, his doctor deliberated for a long time before again sending him home again. He didn’t have to take the supplemental hormones anymore, but she worried his levels would fall again if they weren’t careful.

So, it was at eight months after his initial visit that Rhys sat on the exam table, having been given a full physical, and was given a prescription for his suppressants.

“This prescription will expire in six months,” the doctor told him. “We’re not having you nearly destroying your system again, thank you.”

“No kidding,” Rhys murmured, taking the prescription file and saving it away in his drives. “Thanks for everything, doc. Let’s never do this again.”

It was still the late morning as Rhys let himself back into the office. Jack was across the room, staring out at Elpis again.

“What happened to the conference call with genetics?” Rhys asked, walking up the steps to the desk. “I told you, fifteen after.”

Jack turned, waving his hand. “Got cut off, one of the experiments got loose. There was too much screaming in the background for the call, so we’ll just do it next week.” He leaned back on the glass, arms crossed. “So. Third time lucky?”

Tentatively, Rhys sat in Jack’s vacant chair. It was plush against his back, easy to sink into, and he relaxed. “Yes, actually. I’m cleared for suppressants again. No auto-renew this time, though.”

“No shit, that was a disaster.” Jack raised his eyebrows. “But…?”

Rhys tucked one leg onto the chain, chin on his knee. “I was… thinking about that, actually. Having now walked more than a few miles in the other shoes, you know.”

Slowly, Jack smiled. “Yeah?”

Nodding, Rhys bit his lip. “I can get the prescription filled anytime. But… if I didn’t, my…” There was a tense feeling in his chest, and he took a deep breath. His lungs filled, and he felt calmer

That never stopped feeling so good.

“If I didn’t,” he went on, “my next heat would be next month, apparently.”

To his immense relief, Jack nodded, looking satisfied with that. “Well, kitten, you’re the PA. You control my schedule.” He turned back to the window, hands in his pockets. Rhys could see his smile in the reflection. “Mark the date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very confident in this ending because... oddly enough, I'm very new to the a/b/o trope. Hopefully this is satisfactory.
> 
> Thank you, everyone, the enthusiasm for this little experiment was immense. And, honestly, as much as I love Robot Mom Rhys, writing this version on him, this sort of vindictive, charming hardcore Slytherin, it has be a fucking blast. 
> 
> now jack and rhys can go on to bond and be terrible, mutually enabling tyrants together. whoooooo.
> 
> (and eventually rhys gets that bubble bath, and maybe even lets jack watch)


	8. CODA: bathtime fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty much mandatory. and idk i wanna write little timestamps for this AU because I'm trash. sorry.

The shuttle trip back from Pandora was always longer than expected, and it sort of completely pissed Jack off. Landing was always simple; the flight control always picked a good point in the planet’s rotation to leave Helios, but with Pandora’s size and its 90 hour rotation cycle, the trip back always meant taking off, slingshotting around, and then heading back to the space station.

A half hour down to the surface, a good three hours back to Helios. He really needed to come up with some alternative, especially for the times he went alone. At least if he’d dragged Rhys along, his PA could have provided a distraction. Or, a  _distraction_ , either one would have worked fine.

As it was, Jack got back to the penthouse late, and in a sour mood for it. He slung his jacket onto the sofa and glared out the window for a moment, daring the abyss and stars to stare back.

They didn’t seem to notice him at all. It was insulting, honestly.

There wasn’t much in the kitchen. Or, nothing he felt like making. Actually cooking for himself was a pain in the ass, something he preferred to avoid, unless he was trying to bribe something out of Rhys. Since going omega, Rhys had been a sucker for gestures like that, and Jack wasn’t afraid to press his advantage.

He could head back out for something to eat. Or he could order his PA to come over. Either way, he’d end up eating out, it didn’t really matter.

It was a testament to how annoyed he was that it took him so long to breathe in deeply and realize there was  _something_  off. Letting the fridge door swing shut, Jack stalked through his home, mouth opening to taste the air.

His urge to get his fingers around the grip of his gun faded. He knew  _that_ scent.

Following, Jack found the light on in the bedroom, and the bathroom door swung mostly shut. He tapped on the frame with two knuckles before nudging the door open enough to peek in.

Rhys was in the bathtub. He was looking pretty, too, his head back against a folded towel, eyes shut, dark lashes fanned out and flickering. Easing into the bathroom, Jack saw he was taking a  _bath_ , complete with a glass of wine sitting on the table next to the tub, drunk down to the last half-sip.

The water in the tub was colored, green and shimmering with something, and Jack resisted the urge to high five himself. He  _knew_  Rhys was that type, that the novelty bath bomb things were right up his alley. Rhys had expensive and thorough tastes in pretty much everything, especially his leisure time. It was charming, and helpful; Jack hadn’t been born into money and sometimes Rhys was better at faking that nouveau rich thing than he was.

“Less diamond horses,” Rhys had told him once as he did Jack’s tie before an obnoxiously fancy dress party, “more diamond cufflinks, okay?”

The bath smelled nice, too. Something floral that wasn’t overpowering, and something musky, maybe rosewood. Some mint… Scents that were uncommon around a space station. Whatever they were, they’d coaxed Rhys into a doze, deep enough that he didn’t stir at all until Jack unbuckled his boots and consciously dropped them to the marble floor loud enough to make noise.

“I see why you sent me off to Pandora for almost a week,” Jack said as Rhys slowly blinked up at him. “Wanting to steal my tub for your weird omega meditation shit.”

“Were you nice?” Rhys asked, his words slightly slurred from tiredness. He braced a hand on the bottom of the tub, pushing himself until he was sitting instead of reclining. “I told you to be nice.”

“I didn’t kill anyone and I bought dinner for the diplomats, relax. Go back to relaxing, it’s a good look for you, babe.” He stripped steadily, throwing his clothes over the sink, his shirt sliding down to flump onto the floor.

Rhys watched him through slitted eyes, gripping the edge of the tub as he stretched out his legs. Jack’s bathtub was big enough for Rhys to stretch out his miles of legs, and Jack watched the murky movement through the tinted water. When he reached out, through, Rhys pushes away, gliding to the far side of the tub.

“Nuh uh,” Rhys said. “This is me time, not you time.”

“All your time is me time. Or it’s– me as in me, not–” Jack rolled his eyes. “Come on, Rhysie, I’ve been gone days. You trying to tell me you didn’t miss me?”

“See,” Rhys said patiently, “if you’d said  _you_  missed  _me_ , I might be more willing to let you join me but now?” He shrugged. Dragging his folded towel closer, he set it behind his neck again, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He  _looked_  fine. It was hard to see through the water, but Rhys naked was always something special, all his long limbs, the new softness of him since he went omega. The way he tipped his head back and showed off that neck made Jack want to  _bite_. His skin was unmarked, the bites and bruises Jack had left him with before the trip faded away. He ached to get something new pressed into Rhys’ skin.

“I can feel you leering,” Rhys said, eyes still shut.

“I’ve been offworld for days, buttercup. What better way to celebrate being home than a hot bath with fancy crap in it?”

Snorting, Rhys smiled. “Yeah, because I definitely want a big sweaty alpha in here during my  _weird omega meditation shit_.”

“Come on, babe, what’s it gonna take?”

“Be  _nice_ ,” Rhys said, shifting restlessly. His feet braced on the wall of the tub closest to Jack.

Nice. Fine.

Jack reached into the water to curl a hand around Rhys’ foot, the delicate bone of his ankle against Jack’s thumb. Pulling up, Jack drew one foot out. Rhys’ toes curled against the chill, and Jack folded his hands around him, fingers pressing into unbearably soft skin. Whatever was in the bath bomb Rhys used, it took an omega’s already pretty tender skin and made it even sweeter to the touch, supple and smooth.

Rhys opened an eye, his lips curling up. “Now you’re getting it.”

“Getting that you are the most high maintenance omega on Helios?”

“You don’t like anything you don’t have to work for,” Rhys said, sighing as Jack dragged his thumb up the arch of his foot. “Mmm.”

“Four days offworld,” Jack reminded him. Rhys didn’t seem to notice or care, just groaning softly under Jack’s attentions, which… was kind of nice too, it was true. When Rhys nudged him with his other foot, he traded, giving the same massage all over again.

Under the smell of all the oils and things in the bath, Jack picked up on Rhys.  _Happy_  Rhys, his familiar scent that came around most evenings, after long days at work. Whenever he could, Jack dragged Rhys back to the penthouse, wanting the chance to tumble him into bed or at least have him close for sleep.

It was always better that way, Jack found. He slept harder, deeper, with his nose against Rhys’ hair, tasting that gentle sweet scent that belied what a _vicious_  thing Rhys could be. Under Jack’s arm, he was pliant and soft. It was nice. Jack had missed that when he was away.

Dropping Rhys’ foot back into the bath, Jack stood, dragging his undershirt off his head and dropping it, his boxers joining it on the floor. His mask detached and was set aside on the sink.

Rhys watched, his hand slipping under the water, running down his chest slowly. Grinning, Jack put his hands on his hips. “See something you like, Rhysie?”

“Was going to make you go out, get me more to drink or maybe chocolate. I have some in the cabinet. But…” He bit his lip, eyes flicking down to Jack’s cock and catching there for a long second before he managed to look away again. “C’mere.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Jack groused, wasting no time climbing in. The water was still warm, almost a bit too hot, but Jack was motivated and slid into it, pushing Rhys’ legs apart to settle between them. Without delay, he braced himself on the edge of the tub, a hand on either side of Rhys’ shoulders, drifting over him.

Rhys smiled, wet hand pressing against Jack’s chest. “Hey there.”

“Hey,” Jack said, leaning down to kiss him. It was warm, familiar, but short, as Rhys turned away, instead nuzzling Jack’s cheek, breathing deep. Laughing, Jack nipped his ear. “What happened to being a sweaty alpha ruining your bath?”

“Shut up,” Rhys said, eyes closing as he breathed Jack in, a flush appearing high on his cheeks. “Four days. Close to five.”

“Yeah. Next time, you’re coming with me,” Jack growled, sliding against Rhys’ body. He was so  _soft_ , his skin just so perfect to touch. Jack wanted to squeeze him, leave bruises everywhere, started licking and biting a spot high on his neck.

Rhys arched, moaning, wrapping his arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Missed you,” he whispered.

“You too,” Jack admit. “Lemme show you how much, baby.”

It was surprisingly easy to fuck in the tub. Rhys was already slick, because he was always quick to get slick for Jack, it was a deeply gratifying thing. Stretching him was quick, his body already lax from his long soak.

Jack kept one hand on the edge of the tub, the other around Rhys’ hips as he pushed in, feeling Rhys’ legs tense against his sides. Their faces were close as the breathed together, moving slow and easy against each other. There was no rush to it, and Jack focused on just enjoying how good Rhys felt, hot and wet around his dick.

Rhys sighed his name prettily, kissing Jack’s chin. Around them, the water splashed a little as Jack fucked into Rhys steadily. Neither paid it any mind.

A choked noise rattled loose from Rhys as he came, his nails digging in painfully into Jack’s shoulder. It was perfect, crashing into the overwhelming pleasure, how  _good_  everything felt. He gripped Rhys’ hips, pulling him in closer, fitting his dick all the way in to knot him. Jack was close enough to see how Rhys’ breath stuttered as he came inside him, the sweet little moan he let out.

Panting, Jack brushed his lips against Rhys’ temple. “Good, babe?”

“Warm, so warm,” Rhys mumbled, humming contently, his eyes closed.

Jack kissed his ear, waiting patiently. Now, he could relax. Now, he was back home and things were how they should be.

He’d get out of the tub with wrinkly fingers and having to hold up a drowsy, well-fucked omega, but that could wait a few minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggestions welcome, i guess.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] dripping with alchemy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6712189) by [Kess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kess/pseuds/Kess)




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